My last foray into the shady world of organized crime (i.e. Las Vegas gambling) was at the LV airport about 5 years ago. Stu, my 12 year-old son, and I were on our annual sojourn to go snowboarding in Utah, yawning away a two-hour layover in Las Vegas, when I had the brilliant idea to impart a bit of sage experience to my impressionable son.
"Well, son, see all those losers standing hypnotized in front of those noisy, obnoxious machines....blah, blah, yadda yadda...well, let me give you a lesson in how gambling really works." I pulled 5 dollars out of my pocket, handed it to him and asked him if he'd like to try his luck. He nodded greedily and was only mildly disappointed when I informed him that he'd have to stand behind the line and watch from a safe, legal distance, as it was entirely possible that my whole body could be suddenly sucked into the evil little financial black hole, thus leaving him a penniless orphan. He didn't appear to be all too concerned with his father's mortal peril as I inserted his $5 bill in the machine---all the while naming off all the great things we could've purchased with our soon-to-be-someone-else's 5 dollar bill: "mmmm...Cold Stone Sweet Cream on a chocolate dip cone?...an In-n-Out double-double and a large fries?...two-and-a-half minutes of phone sex on your favorite 900 number?.." He waved them all off, willing to forgo such boring everyday creature comforts for the chance to win big.
I had my doubts about my methodology when I noticed the twinkle in his eye and saw him licking his chops. Normally---on the very rare occasions when I feel the need to willingly hand over my hard-earned profits to the Las Vegas gambling establishment---when all is said and done, and I'm down maybe 25 bucks, I feel horrible, like a rape victim. Worse, I feel like a rape victim who has willingly gone back to the home of her attacker and said, "OK, let's try this one more time." Nevertheless, this time I felt a teensy bit less moronically foolish simply because I was "teaching my son a lesson." I had the moral high ground, and after all, I wasn't even trying to win. It was a lose/win proposition as far as I could tell: I lose, Stu wins...in the long run.
Of course, as they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. I pressed the button marked "BET IT ALL" and approximately seven seconds later I was absolutely sure I'd miscalculated the value of this lesson when the three wheels stopped spinning. The lights lit and the bells & whistles started a frantic racket and the quarters began piling up in our bucket. Truthfully, and I hate to admit it, but the look on Stu's face---his perma-grim seemed to take on a golden glow as he stood across the aisle watching the seemingly endless jangle of quarters stream out of the machine like a sparkling silver waterfall from heaven---it was actually worth the realization that I had perfectly bungled a very important lesson.
"WHOOOOOAAAAA!" he said, gently rubbing my nose in it, "Great lesson, dad!"
All totaled we made 95 bucks on our one pull. I considered dumping it all back in to demonstrate "what gambling is REALLY all about," but Stu put his foot down, opining on the foolishness of such wasteful lunacy..."Dude! We can use it for an extra day of snowboarding!" I concurred and we lugged our 400 quarters over to the cashier as I explained that our good fortune was at the expense of all these other poor fools still dumping their hard earned never-to-be-savings in the machines...blah, blah, yadda yadda....
Stu just nodded and tried to keep his smile from wrapping completely around his head, no doubt thanking good fortune for such a dim-witted, albeit lucky, father.
"Well, son, see all those losers standing hypnotized in front of those noisy, obnoxious machines....blah, blah, yadda yadda...well, let me give you a lesson in how gambling really works." I pulled 5 dollars out of my pocket, handed it to him and asked him if he'd like to try his luck. He nodded greedily and was only mildly disappointed when I informed him that he'd have to stand behind the line and watch from a safe, legal distance, as it was entirely possible that my whole body could be suddenly sucked into the evil little financial black hole, thus leaving him a penniless orphan. He didn't appear to be all too concerned with his father's mortal peril as I inserted his $5 bill in the machine---all the while naming off all the great things we could've purchased with our soon-to-be-someone-else's 5 dollar bill: "mmmm...Cold Stone Sweet Cream on a chocolate dip cone?...an In-n-Out double-double and a large fries?...two-and-a-half minutes of phone sex on your favorite 900 number?.." He waved them all off, willing to forgo such boring everyday creature comforts for the chance to win big.
I had my doubts about my methodology when I noticed the twinkle in his eye and saw him licking his chops. Normally---on the very rare occasions when I feel the need to willingly hand over my hard-earned profits to the Las Vegas gambling establishment---when all is said and done, and I'm down maybe 25 bucks, I feel horrible, like a rape victim. Worse, I feel like a rape victim who has willingly gone back to the home of her attacker and said, "OK, let's try this one more time." Nevertheless, this time I felt a teensy bit less moronically foolish simply because I was "teaching my son a lesson." I had the moral high ground, and after all, I wasn't even trying to win. It was a lose/win proposition as far as I could tell: I lose, Stu wins...in the long run.
Of course, as they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. I pressed the button marked "BET IT ALL" and approximately seven seconds later I was absolutely sure I'd miscalculated the value of this lesson when the three wheels stopped spinning. The lights lit and the bells & whistles started a frantic racket and the quarters began piling up in our bucket. Truthfully, and I hate to admit it, but the look on Stu's face---his perma-grim seemed to take on a golden glow as he stood across the aisle watching the seemingly endless jangle of quarters stream out of the machine like a sparkling silver waterfall from heaven---it was actually worth the realization that I had perfectly bungled a very important lesson.
"WHOOOOOAAAAA!" he said, gently rubbing my nose in it, "Great lesson, dad!"
All totaled we made 95 bucks on our one pull. I considered dumping it all back in to demonstrate "what gambling is REALLY all about," but Stu put his foot down, opining on the foolishness of such wasteful lunacy..."Dude! We can use it for an extra day of snowboarding!" I concurred and we lugged our 400 quarters over to the cashier as I explained that our good fortune was at the expense of all these other poor fools still dumping their hard earned never-to-be-savings in the machines...blah, blah, yadda yadda....
Stu just nodded and tried to keep his smile from wrapping completely around his head, no doubt thanking good fortune for such a dim-witted, albeit lucky, father.
posted by Jefferson | 10:17 AM
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