All In

I threw it all away. Kept betting, couldn’t stop, kept chasing the next spin. The ball went round and round, hypnotic, and somewhere in there I lost my mind and my money. One moment you’re careful, the next you’re reckless, watching chips disappear like they were never real. Ten euros gone in seconds.

We went dressed up to this casino at Potsdamer Platz—suits, nice shirts, the whole thing. Walked in trying to look cool and immediately felt out of my depth. The place had this zombie quality, people pushing money across the table like it cost nothing. I was completely absorbed in my two-euro chip, and right next to me this old guy stacked hundred-euro notes beside it like we were playing the same game. We both lost. He didn’t flinch, just stood up and left like nothing had happened.

That’s when I knew I’d rather be at Sabse’s drinking cheap vodka, playing spin-the-bottle, losing at mustard beer, hanging out with the gay neighbors upstairs, talking nonsense till dawn. We piled into a car in the early morning and drove through the countryside screaming California, here we come out the windows, and when I saw the red lights on the horizon I felt something like peace, something like I was finally home.