The Chump Lady’s post today talks about the sordidness of cheaters and casinos. I LMAO LMAO LMAO all the way through it.
The similarities that cowardly cheaters share are interesting, more diverting than their contribution to marriage.
My cheater used to meet his whore at the casino. He knew how I felt about the casino. I don’t appreciate casinos, because one person’s win is another person’s loss. Such a culture encourages drunk driving. Speeding through neighborhoods closer to the casinos become endemic. Not to mention how casinos put a massive strain on the surrounding communities, as talked about in the following article.
Casinos spread gambling addiction, which leads to debt, bankruptcies, broken families, embezzlement and other crime. The National Council of Problem Gambling estimates that one in five gambling addicts attempts suicide, a rate higher than for any other addiction.
Multiple studies show that 35 percent to 50 percent of casino gambling revenue comes from problem and pathological gamblers. In other words, the casino industry’s business model is dependent upon preying on people with gambling problems.
According to a landmark report from the Institute for American Values, a non-partisan think tank, local and regional casinos drain wealth from communities, weaken nearby businesses, hurt property values, and reduce civic participation, family stability, and other forms of social capital that are at the heart of a successful community.
Having read the above paragraphs, one can easily conclude a person who supports a casino is not a person who gives one iota about his family and their community.
Casinos are an infidelity’s paradise.
My cheater claimed the musical atmosphere of the casino relaxed him, and considering that I don’t like that atmosphere (who does?), I should at least allow him to enjoy it. Since he drinks, at first I would drop him off and pick him up. A DUI was the last thing we needed to face considering how financially irresponsible he was [is] with money. Plus, if he got a DUI, he would’ve lost his job. Slowly he began claiming he was not going to drink and was only going to listen to the bands, so, he could drive himself. That is when I’m sure he started meeting up with the whore or picking the whore up and taking her with him to the casino. He thought if I were to show up at the casino for some reason, he (and she) could pretend like they ran into each other there.
The casinos know exactly what they are doing when they offer “free concerts.”
The following is an entry in my journal from early on. It is what I thought about when I read The Chump Lady’s post today:
Too bad when I first announced that I filed for divorce from my husband, I didn’t say he was gay or that I caught him dressing in women’s underwear (not that being gay and enjoying women’s underwear are the same thing). Instead, I had to tell the truth. Being caught cheating with a dried up over-the-hill casino whore makes for a boring story. What a droll and tiresome cliché. Can’t I at least have a riveting divorce exit? One with mystery and intrigue!