Viva Atlantic City

Yes, I am here in the Las Vegas of the east coast, Atlantic City. It’s probably unnecessary to explain, but there are dozens of casinos lining the shore along the boardwalk. All the big names are here, Ballys, Sands, Caesar’s, Trump Plaza, Tropicana, Taj Mahal, and many others. I’m staying at the Resorts, a name that I was unfamiliar with, but a really nice place. It was the cheapest of the 4 stars hotels to choose from here. At first I was going to stay at the Hilton Hotel and Casino, but read some bad reviews for it. It was built in 1980 as the Golden Nugget, and then taken over later by Hilton, so it’s an older hotel.

It’s not yet summer here, so tourist season hasn’t really begun yet. There are still quite a few people in the casino during the afternoon hours though. It seems to slightly slack off during the night, and first thing in the morning you see only the die hard gamblers. I was quite surprised to see the blackjack and baccarat tables full at 6:45AM.

Can someone tell me what the link is between old people and casinos? I would say that approximately 85 percent of the casino crowd I saw was over 65. It confuses me as to why this demographic is so interested in the casino world. It seems like once you had gone through most of your life, working hard, and going through financial difficulties, that you would value your money even more.

I see the old blue haired lady with the obnoxiously loud neon pantsuit on, her face spackled with makeup, perched high up on her little stool, ferociously slapping the spin button on the slot machine, and I think, “Has she worked for hours on end to earn this money only to shove it into this machine and watch dancing frogs and monkeys spin by on the screen??” Then there is the small, decrepit old man with a walker and an oxygen bottle strapped to his back, hunched over the craps table barely able to audibly declare his bet, but nevertheless still dropping hundreds onto the table at regular intervals. Here is a man literally existing in what could be some of the last moments of his life watching a pair of red dice roll across green carpet. Is this how you would like to spend your final moments?? I know I don’t.

So, as you can see, I don’t really get gambling. Don’t get me wrong I have done some, and enjoy some of the games, like Blackjack and Roulette. But I don’t have money to waste on these big casinos, and would rather play the games on my computer where it’s free. The trill of winning big prizes is obviously the draw, but most people don’t take the time to calculate the total cost of the whole process.

Not long ago, one of my uncles was saying how he had hit it big at the casino and won something like 10,000 bucks. Sounds pretty sweet when you think of just that one trip. What he isn’t telling you though is that he has been going to the casino twice a month for three years spending at least 1,000 bucks on each trip. According to my math, he as spent over 70,000 bucks altogether for that one big win. I don’t think he’s getting ahead.

The whole world of casinos fascinates me. First, I’m impressed with the lengths they go to in order to attract people to the casinos. Cheap, large, luxurious hotel rooms, low priced buffet spreads with every food imaginable, and entertainment. Of course, if you are a member of the casino (which means they track how much you spend), then you can get comps and perks. Depending on how high up you are on the totem pole of high rollers, you can get anything from free meals, to free hotel rooms, and even a limo ride to the place itself.

Second, the décor and atmosphere of the casino is quite interesting. Everything is carefully designed to attract you and keep you there for as long as possible. From the plush carpet to the colorful machines, whose neon flashing lights combined with a variety of beeps and chirps mesmerize the elderly. Even in the elevator, there is a video screen showing elated people jumping for joy whilst hitting the big jackpot and you can hear the constant clinking sounds of coins hitting the metal tray at the bottom of the slot machine. Then of course there is the food. This time of year, they don’t open all the restaurants, since they don’t have the people to support it.

What is open are a couple of small restaurants offering standard fare. I just left such a place, called Breadsticks here in the hotel. I sat at the bar and was flanked on one side by a morbidly obese Asian woman and on the other side by a true “Jersey” guy, complete with slicked back hairdo and pinky ring. At 10:45 PM he still had a pair of sunglasses perched atop his forehead. The gargantuan Asian woman got her meal, which consisted of a steak and baked potato, along with some veggies. She literally spent five minutes a-salting her food. She vigorously shook the saltshaker over her food until it was thoroughly coated with salt. She then put the salt back down on the bar, only so that she could shift around her food on the plate and resalt any missed areas. As she ate her potato, and peeled away a part of it, the newly exposed part was quickly salted to death.

After she finished her meal, she got up and walked away, only to return minutes later to walk up to the bar, pour some salt out of the shaker onto her open palm, and walk out again. I’m not kidding. Unreal.

I could literally write chapters on the specimens from society that I have spotted here. In the respect of your time though, I’ll only focus on a few.

Now I have to admit that even though I pretty much dissed gambling in the previous paragraphs, I did finally succumb to the peer pressure and play for a little while. I only lost $40 though, so I was responsible. Besides, since my wife spent over $40 on her gambling party tonight (Pokeno), I figured it was justified.

I decided to play Roulette. Its one of the only casino games that I am well versed on and I find it interesting. So, I sat down at one of the tables and dropped my measly forty bucks down. The first problem here was that the board of numbers pretty much stretches the entire length of the table, so if you are sitting in the middle area (as was I), then people are reaching over you constantly to place their bets.

In what should have been a sign of my luck to come, I was up against the side of some woman who looked about 70 even though she was probably only 45. She smelled as if she had not only drunk the bar dry, but had probably washed her clothing in pure gin. On numerous occasions she passed her filthiness across me to drop down her chips. She finally left at one point, to my great joy, only to return moments later with fresh money. The next time she reached over me I made an audible noise of disgust, to which she replied in a loud and obnoxious voice “SORRY”. I didn’t respond, so she felt the need to say, “JESUS, I SAID I WAS SORRY” Whatever.

I came very close to saying, “It’s not the fact that you’re reaching over me, it’s the fact that you smell like you shared a washing machine with Dean Martin that annoys me.” She finally lost out again and was gone. Good.

My trip here is now coming to an end and I’m ready to go. You can only take so much of a casino. I don’t see how some people can practically live in these places. The endless cacophony of sounds alone would drive me insane. Maybe that’s actually the core of what is happening here. The old people are probably being hypnotized by the sounds and are secretly having their minds programmed to have to come back over and over again. That would explain it. As crazy as that sounds, I still wouldn’t put it past a casino.