When I was a kid we used to go to Reno with a pocketful of coins and maybe less than ten bucks in our wallet.

We'd crash at some friend's ski shack in cotton sleeping bags and hit the casinos in search of the cheapest meals and maybe have a beer or two while sitting at the blackjack tables if we looked old enough or if the bosses had a heart and could recall how things were when they were still teenagers away from their moms and dads looking for a new adventure to talk about once school reconveined on Monday morning.

We would have a great time on a few bucks a day back then and have something to brag about for a good long while.

But on a few occasions we'd have to search under the rear seat in he hopes of finding a quarter to get back over the Golden Gate Bridge. And sometimes we'd even have to write an I.O.U. before we were allowed to proceed. (Those toll takers were really very patient way back then.)

Well, this past week we decided to attempt to repeat one such teen-age venture -

We decided to go back to Reno with no money! To be more honest, I should say, "With as little money as possible!"

But this time we had no need for a cotton sleeping bag or a friend's weekend ski shack because I had two free night's at John Ascuagua's Nugget in Sparks, Nevada - just a hop, a skip, and a dice throw away from downtown Reno where we used to live it up on about five-bucks a day.

So this time we were going to try to do the same and keep track to see if it were still possible to do the same or come close to doing so.

But right away we hit a WALL! Gas used to cost us 18 to 24 cents a gallon, but we filled up this time at $3.74 for that same gallon of petrol.

But the driver who recently retired from Standard Oil merely said, "Why complain!? You don't complain when you pay $2.00 for a little cup of Starbuck's coffee and they don't even incur the expense of having to pump that out of the ground!"

So he filled the tank at a Standard Station while I sat back and drank my coffee and contemplated the fact that this cup of coffee did in fact cost way more than that gas going into the tank if I drank a tank-load of it - or something like that.

So with $40 tossed down the tank, I came to the conclusion that we would in no way be able to limit our expenditures to the amount we spent in Reno as teenagers in search of an adventure to brag about the following Monday.

But we'd still give it the old college try and continue onward. After all - we did have a free room to look forward to!

We checked in. There were no gimmicks to the free room offer. No need to even present a credit card. Just my driver's license to prove I was who I claimed to be.

We got to the room and soon realized that we were on the top floor with a phenominal view and with all those extra amenities that Nevada hotels like to brag about in all their ads in the California newspapers ..... coffee maker, hair drier, iron and ironing board, fluffy towels, and fancy soaps and shampoos, and a surprise "gift" on your pillow every evening. All those things I never notice and simply take for granted but which we pay extra for on most occasions.

So now it was time to eat. That meant I had to search for a free meal someplace. And that free meal was sitting there on the night stand in front of my very nose. All I had to do was comply with the instructions below (in very small print) and enter a FREE slot tournament which would offer the top fifty winners a couple of free meals.

So we rushed down to the casino and entered and I won that free meal and kind of "fined dined" at Rosie's Cafe with only the tip to pay.

Doing well so far! But now it was time to have some fun and do a bit of gambling! Just a BIT of gambling because, like the old days, I had a five dollar limit and not a penny more.

So I went in search of a penny machine and heard a cow calling for my attention. And, sure enough, I found that cow with those cow like eyes mooing for my attention in the next aisle over.

It was not one single cow that attracted me but five of them, each sitting in a flying saucer with a name at the very top - something like "Cows from the Planet Moo-Lah".

I'm a sucker for cows from another planet so I inserted my Player's Club Card and my five dollar bill and took a seat directly in front of those five cows in five flying saucers! (Who thinks of these things anyway!)

I enjoy sitting at a slot machine for a longer period of time on a five dollar investment so I chose to play nine lines instead of 25 lines and only one cent per line instead of the more daring ten cents per line. I figure you have a better chance winning a bit of money over the longer time period with a minimum investment rather than playing for a shorter amount of time with the maximum bet. (Or something like that.)

So it turns out that I'm playing nine-cents every time I push that button to spin the reels that determine if I've made the proper decision or not.

And being a pretty smart feller, I soon learn that I've made a good decision cause those little cows in those little flying saucers start shooting little death rays all over the place and my winning start piling up even though I have no idea what's even happening.

But the noise and death rays and flying saucer cows have my complete attention and I'm going crazy pushing that button and racking up my winnings and discovering that I get 7 to 20 free spins every time something happens that I don't any understanding about - happens.

And whenever that mysterious thing that I known nothing about happens, I get more free spins than I've every expected and soon notice that my five dollar investment has climbed to forty-seven.

So I decide it's time to put the cows to pasture and hit the rack and get up early and visit these cows once again before the sun comes up.

So I arise before the sun comes up and go downstairs for a cup of Starbucks because I now have much more money than I started with and can afford this extravagance.

SO with coffee in hand I tread through the vacant casino in search of those cows who were so kind the previous evening and find them just as I had left them just a few hours ago .... all alone and mooing for my attention once again.

SO I take a seat and insert another $5 bill and within 20 minutes I have another $40 profit. And being the cautious person that I tend to be, I take my winnings and head on off to the coffee shop for Eggs Benedict which I never could afford when I was a kid in high school.

After breakfast I figure it's time for Blackjack, so I go off in search of a low minimum table and discover that the Nugget offers a $3 minimum but I decline and go across the street to The Silver Casino to see if they have a dollar table.

No dollar table here so I take a first base seat at the a $2 table and place a ten for change.

And to make a long story short ..... I walk out of that place before noon with a
$40 profit and a few beers under my belt and feeling good because I am proving that one can come to Nevada with little money in his pocket and still have an enjoyable time.

And that's the way it went the entire two days I was there. From the cows in the Nugget to the $2 Blackjack at the Silver. Back and forth with a small profit every time.

And we came back home with more than we departed with. This time we didn't have to look under the rear seat to pay the toll on the GG Bridge.

Thank you, Will ... I was ROTFL when I finally found this story. You brought back so many memories of early trips to both Reno and Tahoe, many of them when I was sneaking in underage with a carefully hoarded collection of nickels in my pocket.

Thanks, Daisy! Good to see that someone out there remembers similar days and can attest to the fact that I ain't exaggerating.

Some day I gotta tell the stories of how the old time guys who ran Las Vegas would honor the us guys in uniform by informing us when to take our winnings and quit and take a seat at the bar and enjoy the rest of the evening compliments of the house!

What ever happened to those great old time guys anyway?! I've looked all over Las Vegas these past few years, and I can't find them anywhere!

Maybe their real names really wern't "Knuckles", "Big Loui", "Weisel", or "Joe Spagnolio". Maybe that's why I can't find them in the telehone book.

Those same old guys also always carried shovels in the back of their car and I never did find out why until I started reading the LV papers on the weekends.