I’m feeling terribly un-inventive, as you may have been able to gather from the title. Which it sort of weird, because I just got done writing this poem. It’s not particularly creative, but it was rather spontaneous.
[By the way, I have updated the poetry commenting system. It is operational again.]
So, maybe you saw it coming. I made a trip to a local casino with my uncle. I didn’t gamble, but I did walk out a winner. And it still made me sorta sick.
For one, it smells terrible. Smoke fills the air – it is almost unbearable, but you don’t have much time to think about it. The cacophony created by the machines is terribly distracting, and the curves on the floor are something between hypnotic and dizzying.
What I did have time to dwell on were the people: I didn’t see one person that looked like they were having a good time. I saw plenty of people starring impatiently at their partners. I saw people hitting machines and cursing. I saw others slamming beverages and chain-smoking. I rarely saw a smile, and when I did – it was fleeting.
I’m not quite sure where the appeal comes from; I personally saw nothing exciting about risking money with a constantly negative expected return. Which is precisely what most people have when they sit down in front of some machine in a casino.
So, how did I walk out a winner? Well, either people were terribly careless in the midst of so much action, or they were consistently getting tired of losing and left the machines in a hurry. Everywhere, there were machines with credits on them. Waiting to be cashed out. So, I took advantage of the opportunity.
I cashed out more than a handful of credits on all denominations of machines. I took one free spin – and decided it was more fun going with the guaranteed win.