Was doing the slightest bit of cleanup today at my nest of chipping here when my gaze fell upon this most unique casino key card. I got this on my motor trip back from the convention in August and even though I posted the image, I never wrote anything about this thing. This is the key to Reno’s Fitzgeralds Clover Club! And as we can see, a commemorative issue for the ’02 HAN. Next, let’s discuss the nature of The Clover Club. If you happen to be playing a table game at Fitzgeralds and nature does call, those who’ve been to this joint before ask for a key to The Clover Club. The dealer will hand you a key card that looks like the regular Fitzgerald room key and you only have to make a short trip to the more favorably located restrooms that are known as The Clover Club! Otherwise you’d have to try and locate Fitzgeralds public restroom which is somewhere on the other side of Circus Circus.

As I was considering this card today, I began to remember how this card ended up in my pocket. Not the usual way as an asset to my profession (ahem), is transcontinental uh, capacity and I have never been to The Clover Club, although they say it’s quite nice.

It was a Monday afternoon at a single deck 21 game on the main floor. I got stuck at first base but another of the many ladies who deal blackjack at this place and who I’ve fallen in love with had the deck in her hand. Across the bosomy expanse of this young lady’s snowy white blouse the name tag read “Sandra”. Sigh. Next to me was an intense black fellow and at third base, an elderly Asian gent. A native American came in later and with our latina Sandra running the game, it looked like a regular UN.

I was counting the cards and gaining on the house a little and the game just turned into one of those times where the cards, the chips, the count and your companions just lead you to complete contentment. Unlike Las Vegas, about 99 % of the Reno dealers are just real mellow folks. Sandra was working the table when she asked the guy next to me what his name was. Through an unusual accent, we understood his name to be “Candy Man”. Say what? Sandra thought initially that Mr. Candy Man was some sort of smart aleck and let him sit. Because of the fellow’s intensity that I mentioned earlier, he began to get excited about any good cards he’d get and we began to learn that Candy Man was a pretty good guy. Candy Man was in Reno signing his latest novel over at Barnes & Noble. Sandra asked what the book title was and the table play came to a screeching halt when he pulled out a copy of his work, An African Woman With Balls. ! Candy Man (we couldn’t say his real name anyway) was from Africa and his writings were about cultural shifts in modern times in his homeland with the emphasis on the changing relationships between men and women. His other works had similarly provocative titles NOT coming in paperback to a Safeway near you! Once we caught on to his accent we were all affected by his delight at being here with us at a blackjack table in Nevada USA. I remember those high-fives Candy Man!

The elderly fellow at third base was talking about some gal that was bugging him to take her to one of the casinos near their home in the Sacramento area. She didn’t drive and he didn’t really want to take her but the problem was, on the last two trips she’d won big time slot jackpots and she was hooked to say the least. I pointed at the Mustang GT that was one of the Fitzgeralds slot prizes and suggested that if he brought her here, she could win the car and drive her own self to the casinos. He gave me a funny look, asked for the Clover key and left. Sandra told me that the old guy was Chinese from northern CA., had been one of her favorite customers since he quit drinking so much and the woman he was talking about was his mother who was well past ninety years old. Well, she’d probably enjoy the 300 horsepower that particular model offered… who wouldn’t!

When third base returned, he asked about the funny looking black card they were using today. Sandra said since Hot August Nights ended the day before they were supposed to turn these cards in or get rid of them or... I had no idea what she was talking about, having never visited the Club, when she asked, “Well, does anyone want this?” Uh, sure, I’ll take it. “Don’t tell anybody where you got this, okay?” Ooops. Guess she probably won’t marry me now.

Anyway, it’s a pretty cool card isn’t it? Black and the incused part is a bright metallic chrome blue and the ride is a Chrysler 300. I’d probably remember that very pleasant afternoon anyway but, a couple hundred hands, a hundred forty bucks if I remember right, a nifty card and some new stories.