I had twenty minutes before my sister arrived.
She was coming over for dinner with her new boyfriend. First time meeting him. I was supposed to be cooking, but I’d done all the prep work earlier and now I was just standing in the kitchen, watching a pot of water slowly approach a boil. The apartment smelled like garlic and basil. The table was set. Everything was ready.
I was nervous. Not about the food. The food was fine. I was nervous about the whole meet-the-family thing. I’d been in his position before, walking into someone’s home, trying to make a good impression, knowing that every detail was being noticed and judged. I wanted things to go smoothly for them.
I needed to do something with my hands. Something to kill the last few minutes before they showed up.
I grabbed my phone and sat down on the couch. I wasn’t looking for anything serious. Just a distraction. Something mindless to take the edge off. I opened a browser and typed in a site I’d been using occasionally over the past few months. Nothing regular, just when I had some downtime and wanted to play a few hands.
The Vavada sign in screen came up. I typed my email, my password, and I was in.
My balance showed about forty bucks. Leftover from last time. I’d meant to withdraw it but never got around to it. Small amounts like that, I tend to forget about. It’s not real money to me until I actually pull it out.
I figured I’d play a little blackjack. Low stakes, just to pass the time. I sat down at a table with a five-dollar minimum and started playing.
The first hand, I got a blackjack. Natural. Dealer showed a six, flipped a ten, paid me out. Seven dollars and fifty cents. Not bad. The second hand, I doubled down on a ten against a nine. Pulled a face card. Won another ten. The third hand, I split a pair of threes against a five. Hit a ten on the first, a seven on the second. Dealer busted.
I was up. Not a lot, but up. My balance had gone from forty to about eighty in less than five minutes.
I should mention that I’m not a big bettor. I don’t chase losses and I don’t get carried away when I’m winning. I play because I like the rhythm of it. The decisions. The small moments where you have to commit to something and see what happens.
I played another hand. Dealer showed a four. I had a nine and a two. Eleven. Textbook double down. I pushed the bet to the table limit, which wasn’t huge, but bigger than I’d been playing. The dealer gave me a nine. Twenty. The dealer flipped a ten, then drew a seven. Twenty-one. She beat me by one.
I lost that hand. But I wasn’t upset. That’s the game.
I played two more hands, won both, and brought my balance to just over a hundred dollars. I was about to cash out when I heard a knock at the door. My sister. Right on time.
I set my phone down on the couch, answered the door, and did the whole introduction thing. Her boyfriend seemed nice. Polite, good handshake, brought a bottle of wine that was actually the kind I’d drink. Points for that.
We sat down to dinner. The pasta turned out great. The conversation was easy. I forgot about my phone completely for the next hour and a half.
After they left, I was cleaning up the kitchen, loading dishes into the dishwasher, when I remembered. I had a hundred dollars sitting in an account. I’d been in the middle of a streak when they knocked.
I picked up my phone, opened the browser, and there it was. The Vavada sign in screen again. I logged back in, checked my balance. Still just over a hundred. I cashed out the whole thing.
I used that hundred to buy a new cast iron skillet. The one I’d been wanting for months but kept telling myself I didn’t need. It arrived three days later. I’ve used it almost every week since.
I think about that night sometimes. How I was nervous about nothing. How the dinner went better than I expected. How I had twenty minutes to kill and ended up winning enough to buy something that’s still in my kitchen.
It wasn’t about the money. A hundred dollars is a hundred dollars. It was the timing. The way everything lined up without me planning any of it. The pot of water boiling, my sister knocking at the door, the cards falling in my favor for just long enough to make a difference.
I still use the site. Nothing regular. Just when I have some downtime and feel like playing a few hands. The Vavada sign in is saved in my browser, easy to get to, easy to forget about until I need it.
And every time I cook with that skillet, I remember that night. The garlic, the basil, the knock on the door. The five minutes that turned into something I still use.