Slave Boy took Mr. Larger Than Life to the Casino today-not the one where MLTL cracked his coconut, resulting in a skull fracture and subarachnoid hemorrhage-the one across the river. Slave Boy is just shy of 21 and can't get into Detroit's casinos so they drove south of the border to Canada.
Like any old person, MLTL likes to get to the casino at the butt crack of dawn. Why is that? He doesn't imbibe, but his young companion had a beer before noon to help him cope with the shenanigans that surround his head injured grandfather. If it had been me, we'd have been calling a taxi to drive us home, and the whole world would have known I was a lush by 2 PM. My son is made of more flexible stuff than me.
The youngster was proud he had won a little money and was showing me his winnings Friday afternoon. He said, "it looks like I'm a crack dealer with all these fives and tens." I asked him if he knew what a Michigan Avenue Bankroll was. Of course, I immediately dated myself with that one, and these days, it's a crack dealer's wad. A Bankroll was a stack of singles with a big bill folded over on the outside to make someone think the carrier of said cash, was flush. Usually it was a gangster, or
pimp some other worldly type of person carrying his money in this manner.
I found a Michigan Avenue Bankroll as I was leaving a downtown bar one night. That I found it on Woodward Avenue didn't matter in the least, I still identified it by its real name. There wasn't a soul in sight, just me, my girlfriend and a wad of money that was mostly ones and a single one hundred dollar bill.
Do you think I kept it? Would you have kept it? What do you call a wad of cash like that?