It is finally over.

I’ve been going to Caesar’s AC in order to work my way up to diamond status in the Harrah’s rewards program for the better part of this year. Yesterday, I finally made it. What does this mean for me? No more waiting in the loser line at the buffet or at the cashier cage. Having diamond status means the pit boss immediately takes notice and won’t give you the run-around. Dealers make more of a point to learn your name, which really doesn’t affect me much since I have a unique enough name that dealers tend to remember, but is still nice. Sure there are some other cheesy benefits involved (probably some really good discounts too), but these are the most important to me.

This puts me in an exclusive club which boasts members that own nail salons all over the world, old men that have worked themselves to the bone so they can comfortably live out their final years hoping to make that final big score, aspiring rap stars perfecting their patented craps rolling style (”I snap my fingers twice at the end, ’cause that’s how we roll in my ‘hood”), and people who just have more money than they know what to do with.

In summary, I am now officially a degenerate gambler. In fact, I’m a card-carrying member.