Jimbo had started celebrating my imminent return early and had drunk the best part of a liter of vodka prior to my arrival. He graciously offered me the last slug of the bottle which tasted like it was ninety percent spit, and we boarded the shuttle for the half hour bus ride out to the Viejas Casino.

About two and a half minutes into my journey, Jimbo starts sniffing on a bottle of amyl nitrate, and offers me some. It wasn’t the stuff I was used to at all and before long we were swaying all over the bus, as Jimbo crouched looking slightly green by the wheel-arch.

The journey passed without incident, bar for a few odd looks from fellow passengers, and we lit steadying cigarettes prior to entering the den of sin that was Viejas Casino.

When we got in there, to our horror, we found it was ‘Viejas Senior Day’ and all the twenty year old hotties that we expected were septuagenarian wrinklies with bad breath and yellow teeth.

Worse was to come. In my evident distaste at the current situation, I’d forgotten about Jimbo, who was leaning over the roulette table placing a bet. Or so I thought.
He was in fact wretching, and before I could stop him, He had lost his lunch right onto the Viejas Casino’s roulette wheel.

The Viejas management was fairly understanding, given the circumstances. We paid the fine, and accepted the stern advice that if we ever returned to the premises, the police would be called.

Some friends of mine have been back to Viejas Casino since, and I have it on good authority that the roulette wheel squeaks to this day.