Sunday, April 17, 2011

Casino Adventures


Last night, my husband and I and some friends visited a Detroit casino. This is always an adventure. I say always as if my hubby and I are frequent flyers. We're not. We've been to this casino exactly twice. But the fact that it is an adventure does not change by the frequency of our attendance. We are not high rollers of course. We're not hitting the gaming tables with wads of $100 bills. Heck we're not even playing the table games. We basically hang out at the slots. For those fortunate,  uneducated souls, that is short for slot machines. You know, the old one-arm bandits.

These shiny machines, thousands of them, are all over the casino floors. You will find them on the upper levels. You will find them on the lower levels. You will find people sitting in front of them for hours, a glazed expression on their faces, as these slot machines work their magic. And by magic, I mean brain-washing. We all believe that we are going to be the next lucky person to hit the big time jackpot.


And so we play.

The entire casino is filled with the mind-numbing cacophony and  trance inducing symphony of sound spilling forth from these glittering slots, transporting the players to another world. And what a fast-paced, whirling world it is. Money is being fed into these machines at a dizzying pace. Scattered here and there are the lucky winners; their machines singing a happy "ding-ding-ding-ding-ding" as the lights flash ever brighter and neighbor players glance over, wishing it were them.


If played in moderation, this can be a fun evening out. If not, it can be a slow trip into a very deep quick-sand pit of despair. Even after only two visits to casino-land, it's easy to spot the regulars. They stake out their favorite machines, and god help the person who tries to move in while they're away on a bathroom break. There appears to be a look of determined desperation on their tired faces. On the flip-side, it's also easy to spot the newbies, like us, stumbling around, clueless as to how most of the games even work, but happy to part with our money just the same, all in the name of F-U-N.


Because it is fun, up to a point. If you are winning.

But if you start hitting a long losing streak, the fun is replaced with what I like to call The Voice. This is the nagging voice inside your head, screaming "why are you still sitting here?" and "leave now, while you still own the shirt on your back". Is this where the expression "The buck stops here" comes from? I doubt it, but it seems appropriate, nonetheless.


As fun as all of the gambling can be, my favorite part of our casino visit is when we meet up with all of our friends for a dinner break. Because food is the center of my existence, I happily walk away from the sparkling, money-munching slot machines.


Dinner conversation is sprinkled with comments of who lost and who won and who broke even and who just plain broke. I'm usually not involved in the conversation, as I have my nose buried in the menu, agonizing over my meal selection, practically drooling at the possibilities.


All in all a very nice evening. Will we return to the casino? Probably. Will we be casino regulars? Not likely.


We like our shirts, and hate quicksand.

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