THE BERNARDS-RIDGE CONNECTION PAGE 30 JUNE/JULY/AUGUST 2022 theconnectionsnj.com Our car, with its out-of-place New Jersey license plates, wended its way around the winding loops, ascending through the labyrinth that was the parking garage. I felt myself tipping into the beginning of vertigo, and steadied my gaze forward to prevent the impending dizziness I was certain awaited me. Finally, I felt our car stabilize and reach the top level, as all four pairs of eyes locked into our parking spot; we wanted absolute assurance we could locate our car when it was time to leave. This stacked building was a maze of circuitous routes, and my husband, Bruce and sister, Michele and brother-in-law, Ira, were all feeling a bit overcome, even before we looked out at the horizon. It was a spacious view of trees and homes dotting the vista, and we felt the height in the distance we had traveled. The sign denoting the level, 5 B West, was painted a deep blue-purple, somewhere between indigo and violet. Again, all four pairs of eyes peered out of the darkness to find the elevator. As we entered the elevator, leaving the parking garage, anticipation took over as we wondered what we would see when the doors opened. The minute we left the elevator, all my senses were heightened. The sounds were rhythmic, pulsating, musical, bells ringing and people chattering. I didn’t know where to look first! There were the glamorous young long-haired “cocktail waitresses” in shiny black high stiletto heels, extremely short black skirts that barely covered what they needed to cover, and low cut red bustiers carrying elaborate drinks on compact gold trays; the multitude of people with cigarettes askew in their mouths, hanging on to the slot machine arms with hopeful stares; the croupiers shuffling cards invitingly at enticing tables. The combination of wafting smoke mixed withmulticultural foods caused confusion in my olfactory system, not certain what was edible versus piped in for effect. I wanted to taste the food, but the smoke hung heavily creating a pall over the bulk of the floor, as well as a film in my mouth. Touching the walls to determine whether the texture was real or created in a wallpaper factory kept me busy as Bruce found the table where he felt comfortable. There to be his cheerleader, as I sat next to him, I was fixated on the sultry color nail polish the croupier was wearing, how it popped against her dark skin, how it would disappear against mine, skin that is pale and colorless. Struggling to follow the rules the croupier was discussing with Bruce, I felt like a fish out of water, trying to gather oxygen, looking around for my sister, Michele, and brother-in-law, Ira, who had found a slot machine to entertain them. The irrevocable pact Bruce had made with the three of us, who were there to support him, was that he would play 6 hands in order to prepare for his golf trip to Las Vegas. He anticipated some gambling at night, and never one to be unprepared, he wanted to be knowledgeable; had done his research on the game he anticipated playing. In all honesty, the six hands went very quickly, and although many colorful chips of different denominations were on the table at times, Bruce managed to walk away having won a bonus of five dollars. We saw his ability to leave the table with chips as a major accomplishment. We had decided that a fun dinner at Shake Shack in Boca Raton was in keeping with the day. We were great fans and wanted them to experience it. Shake Shack is casual, relaxed and busy, but rarely crowded. The outdoor area has an overhang and long tables, which remind me of the days of picnics and country fairs. It was a perfect night for burgers, fries, and yes, shakes! Since Michele and Ira were new to Shake Shack, I felt as an ambassador for them. Ira commented that the strawberry shake was thick and creamy, delicious and flavorful, infused with their special custard. They are known for that custard. A few years ago, we met Danny Meyer, the restauranteur/owner and Bruce asked him, “What is the special ingredient that makes the custard so outstanding?” Without missing a beat, Danny said, “Love!” Our experience, one of visiting the Casino was also filled with love. One of the joys of being in Florida has been spending time with our family. This simple slice of our lives will remain with me, knowing that we shared something mundane, yet extremely meaningful. One of the joys of being in Florida has been spending time with our family. This simple slice of our lives will remain with me, knowing that we shared something mundane, yet extremely meaningful. THE FLORIDA CASINO SLICE OF LIFE By Ellyn Mantell
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