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Smoke Drink Lose
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Phillip Hong
May 22, 2011 |
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"You must be one (expletive implying success) drug dealer," a butch man says to me, clutching on a
half burnt cigarette as he enters the building from the fog.
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He must have had a slight issue with his eyesight because I was a case of mistaken identity within
the grounds of this Pennsylvanian casino. As a clear and clean Canadian of Chinese ethnicity, I had
just exited from what I believe was an incredibly blunt, nauseating experience.
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I didn't want to be here in the first place. My coach back to Toronto and home stops in front of
one of the entrances to this place, and thanks to my extreme early bird attitude towards travel, I
suddenly had six hours to kill. I don't smoke, gamble or drink in general, so the waiting experience
was ever the more unpleasant.
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I just happened to be old enough to enter this smoky, intense casino. It was colder than usual for
a spring day, so I decided to try my chances for the first time in my life.
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And what a mistake that was.
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I chose to bet safe - a two penny slot machine - and proceeded to try my luck. One dollar bill
became $1.60 as my optimism grew, though the scantily clad waitresses were indifferent to my giddy
mood.
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A stereotypically Thai slot machine relying on pennies then pulled me in. Fifty more "spins" later
with this and another slot machine meant 50 cents lost. The bright lights began to play with my
stomach in the most obnoxious of manners...
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In the end, I knew when to stop, and I was proud to walk out of this casino with a dime in winnings.
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Math aside, the experience was actually more repelling than its intentions to lure and mystify
gamblers. How people bankrupt themselves in places like this is beyond me.
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Back in Ontario, the casinos are usually run by the province. They claim that experiences like this
and along with the money people spend (or "lose" depending on your perspective), helps others with
funding in one way or another. I guess it depends on the individual's tastes and his/her preference
for entertainment at the end of the day.
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I gaze from my seat near the entrance in the dark foggy night, seeing all the intoxicated, angry,
overjoyed patrons walk in and out of what is a polarizing destination. There's still another four
hours to go before I leave on the midnight coach...
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Phillip Hong, a resident within suburban Toronto, is a constant tourist. Check
out the interesting experiences of his journeys on The Travelling
Briefcase.
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