Hey there? Do you gamble? I bet you do. The preceding statement makes me one already. Are you even ready for this? You should not before you listen to Kenny Rodgers’ track, the Gambler. This should set your thoughts in sync with mine. That’s exactly the point but if you miss it, I didn’t expect one of my readers to hail from the marksmen tribe anyway.
Dylan is a troubled young, fine man, curly hair, wallowing in his late teens and many other attributes you may share with him. He has a gullible sexual appetite, I was reminded. He is chocolate-toned and a chocolate lover, has no scar except a few scratches he picks from his club fights in his nights out. He is left-handed and boasts of picking up girls with a single blink.
“Actually, what kind of girls get picked up by a single blink?” I wonder.
The financial shortfall Dylan has is barely equivalent to your girl whining to your broke ass about how she needs her hair redone in a few days and your homies overdue debt breathing up on your scared, lonely wallet. The only difference is that Dylan is a single dude who loves the soft life and occasional flings for his occasional emotional hard-ons. He is fashionable and his fashion statements suggest that he lives in Fashionova.
“I have seen a few of my friends win on bets just sitting cozy and I can try it”
He gaily thinks aloud
He assures himself that it has been a while since he saw money lying around. The only difference is that his breakthrough now lies within the luck of a bet slip. He assures himself that he is not to let his luck slip this time.
“Let me analyze these matches using the only set of equipment I got, my brown eyes, I nevertheless doubt if their color shall compromise sight of the gray area.”
He thinks aloud.
“That’s where the betting host makes money out of your broke ass”
His gambler alter ego whispers.
The whisper as loud as it shouldn’t………
……to be continued……