A lot of things have changed since I graduated from college. I've become bolder, ready to face the cruel and merciless job market I've heard so much about. I'm also embracing this new sense of entitlement I'm feeling just for completing four more years of education. My feelings of superiority are wiggling their way into every aspect of my life. Sometimes, at parties, I'll take the last carrot from the veggie tray without asking.
And I used to be such a nice boy.
One thing that hasn't changed is the fact that I'm still broke, which is common for many college students. This lack of moolah was the cause for my hesitance when some of my friends suggested we go to a casino for a dandy day of sin and shame. Normally I would be all, "I don't know about this fellas," but now that I'm an ambitious college graduate I was like, "Fine." This article will detail my first experience at a casino, so if that doesn't sound worth it, I hope you'll return next week!
I had known about this casino since it's construction several years ago. If you're familiar with the Arundel Mills area of Maryland, you probably know where this casino is, and that this casino has amplified traffic to and from the mall. At least, it feels like it has, so my opinion of the mall was already negative. However, I went because my friends wanted to and I love those clowns. I was also secretly eager to try gambling with money, and not with pretzels or M&M's like last week.
When we arrived to the casino, luck was already against us and I had to use the parking garage to get a parking space. Oy vey! It's okay. I can say that. My cousins from Long Island can vouch for me. Leaving the garage on foot, I realized I honestly had no idea what to expect. During the construction phase of the casino, some of my neighbors spoke very ill of it and also of the grimy nature of gambling. Everything I knew about casinos came from these traditional suburban folk and from popular media. My perception of casinos resembled the Mos Eisley cantina for some reason. Then another, sinister, thought conquered in my noggin. Were there going to be strippers? Did I have to look at the strippers? Would hand sanitizer be provided?
Luckily, there were no strippers, but maybe they come out later.
After all, my posse decided to go to a casino at 3:00pm, so the place was mostly vacant. I still should've snagged some hand sanitizer, though. The casino appeared to be very clean, but a lot of slot machines meant a lot of buttons, and a lot of buttons meant a lot of fingers, and I'm not sure how often those fingers get cleaned.
We got our IDs checked and then perused our options. We saw blackjack tables, but we knew our place. The slot machines were very colorful and appealing. The more expensive ones, (having a wallet-shattering 50 cent minimum bet), typically had five rows instead of three, which, to me, meant more ways to lose money. These machines also had some neat designs and themes. Some machines were based on ancient Egyptian civilization while some others were focused on undersea excursions with aquatic life. It's like everywhere I went there was a Sphinx, a cowboy, or a critter trying to seduce me.
One machine that stood out was "Gorilla Chief," which my squad and I read as "Gorilla Chef." I chuckled, wondering what sorts of toppings a gorilla would put on a pizza, but then I remembered I came here to gamble, not chuckle.
The slot machines seemed like our best bet because some of them had 20 and 25 cents as minimum bet options. We even found one with a five cent minimum bet, but that just seemed silly. These cheaper machines were not as colorful or Egyptian as the more expensive models, but that didn't bother this frugal jerk. We huddled and adopted the strategy of sitting at a machine for a few spins, then going to another machine in order to find one that would hit it big and give us money. Hyped, I skipped to an ATM, but a five dollar surcharge persuaded me to stick with what cash I already had on me.
The first machine I tried seemed to have a theme involving the number seven, the word "BAR," and cherries. I stuck a dollar in, encountered some bonus round in which the machine seemed to be playing itself, and won a few dollars.
It was then that I knew I had a gift for gambling.
Most of the machines would show that I had won some credit, but I never had any idea what was happening or what combination I had gotten that caused me to win. I would press a button and stuff would spin. My crew machine-hopped and kept losing money, winning a little bit here and there, but slowly our supply of dollar bills was dwindling. It was then I came to learn that I did not have a gift for gambling. Finally, in an attempt to cut our losses, we combined our vouchers and fed them to a machine with a helpful-looking mermaid on it. Things looked grim, but then a bonus round happened, and we turned a measly 50 cents into a humbling $3.90. Maybe I was wrong about mermaids...We cashed out and threw in the towel.
By the end of the day, no one in our party had won. I personally had suffered a net loss of $5.10, but considering I used a budget of seven dollars, I could've done much worse. The worst loss I suffered wasn't even in the casino, it was afterward when I somehow managed to pay $13 for a salad at the Arundel Mills food court.
That was my fault, though. I saw the avocado and I wanted it.
Even though I had lost money, I enjoyed the casino. It was a nice change of pace from my usual cool-guy stuff, and it was a neat venue to reunite with some friends I hadn't seen in a while. I probably won't frequent the casino, but I think as long as you know when to stop and you bring some friends, it can be a splendid time. And for those of you that frown upon gambling, the only sinful thing we saw in that casino was The Cheesecake Factory. I went in the casino, gambled and nothing changed. I'm still broke.
