– Contributed by Wee C
You know those people who will try anything? Love to explore a new undertaking? Find great satisfaction in just givin’ it a whirl? Yeah, that’s not me. If I’m not good at something the first time I try it, I don’t want to do it. But how can you know if you’re not good at something unless you try it, you ask? I’m willing to not find out. Which is a real pickle considering I’d damn near have to be a prodigy to actually do ANYTHING in life based on this rationale. Oh, wait, that about sums it up.
Note: I just Goggled the word prodigy to be sure I was using it correctly. Clearly. I had to. It was the first time I’ve used prodigy in a written sentence; I had to use it perfectly to feel comfortable with publishing it on the blog.
So, this hang up of mine really boils down to a high need to be perfect. Boy, there’s a reasonable and achievable aspiration in life. But I’ve owned that goal and valiantly worked towards achieving it for my whole freakin’ life. Part of my hope with 30 Things is that I could overcome this need for perfection, to let myself off the hook from time to time, to actually try something new without the need to master it immediately.
Not long after my 3 am visit to the casino during the Hindu wedding, an opportunity to go back presented itself. The hubby and his buddies wanted to go to the casino. “I’ll go and watch,” I thought.
As the boys doubled-down, split their hands, and told the nice lady to hit them, I uncomfortably stood back from the table hoping that no one would ask me to sit in for a hand. Why, you ask? I had never played Black Jack, and therefore assumed I would suck at it. More specifically, I had visions of yelling out “full house” followed by everyone in the casino turning to look at me, pointing and laughing. Have I mentioned that I have tendencies of being self-absorbed? Or is the fact that I started a blog about me not blatant enough?
Right, so back to the casino. Indeed, I could hide no longer. My husband, a wonderful, caring, and pushy as hell man, not-so-gently reminded me that I ought to suck it up or I’d never get through those 30 Things. I say pushy because he literally pushed me (gently, of course) into the seat at the table, gave me my $40 and told me to play. I’m quite certain I started to itch. I didn’t know the rules of the game. I didn’t know whether to say “hit me” on 17 or hold. But in that uncomfortable situation, I quickly began to learn the ropes. And I became comfortable.
In fact, I’m awesome at Black Jack. Yes, I’m awesome (even perfect, really) at a completely random game of chance. I took home $175 for my $40 investment. But I beat more than the house. I beat myself at my own game.