“You ready to do this?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be. Do you think they’ll find out?”
Hearing Marcus question the probability of the staff finding out felt almost like an insult on my planning abilities. However, he’s always been the one to question things, so I let it slide this time, “As long as you play your part, we’ll be walking out of this with deep pockets. Remember not to break character and to use our ‘names.’”
I take one last glance at him before we begin our operation. The blonde, short cut wig is pulled back into a small ponytail, but a few strands are out in the front to hide the netting from the inside of the wig. He’s dolled up in a loose fit black and white business suit with the cuffs rolled back to give his hands more movement. Marcus even had to shave that little stubble on his face to make this plan work even more. Seeing him like this, I wouldn’t recognize the usual, jean wearing douchbag.
I harass him one more time, “You look like you’re about to buy somebody’s family.”
He flips me off, replying back, “Shut up. So, we going in or not?”
I look straight at the red velvet double doors in front of us. In a normal situation, I would have already strutted my way through those doors. Only thing is, this isn’t a normal situation.
“I’m suppose to be a blind dude, idiot. I can’t see the door.”
Marcus gives me a light shove, “You’re not blind until we walk through that door.”
“It’s gonna look pretty weird that a person who is obviously blind has somehow stumbled his way into a casino without help.” Sticking to my roll, I take my support cane and “accidentally” hit Marcus in the foot. He kicks it out of his way and heads to the door to open it. Now, our plan kicks in.
As soon as those doors open, a dim light flashes through my glasses. Although they’re actually used to hide a blind person’s eyes, I changed the lens to dramatically dim down the lights so I can still see clearly through them. Slowly swinging the cane side to side on the ground, I grab onto Marcus’ shoulder and follow next to him.
The room is massive, easily the size of an entire football field and even having two other floors above. It’s crowded with all kinds of slot machines, card tables, and flashy people who all came to blow their money on shameful betting addictions. As we’re walk through the maze of machines, we pass a large group of elderly woman all going nuts because they hit the jackpot on a nickle machine.
I lean over and whisper to Marcus, “Those old broads think they won it big on a cheap ass nickle machine. How much do they pay out, again? Like ten dollars?”
Luka's Notebooks 