The Grandpappy of 'Em All

Hick and I have ended our quest for FREE casino luggage. Saturday was the final installment, and we each got our large American Tourister on wheels. Hick took them right out to T-Hoe, but other patrons insisted on pulling their giant suitcases around the floor, impeding the flow of foot-traffic, blocking aisles, and pretty much acting entitled, like YOU were the one in the wrong for daring to compete for the same patch of gaudy-patterned carpet with them.

Crowds again limited my playing ability. But as with the first Saturday of FREE Luggage, when I hit $1000 on a $5 slot machine...I turned this luggage lemon into the sweet, sweet nectar of winning luggage lemonade. I didn't accomplish this until after lunch, though. Let the record show that at the time of my over-cooked, well-done, medium-requested burger, I was ahead $1.43. So of course I was all giddy and full of myself.

After lunch, I headed to my old-fashioned 4-game slot machine, back in the area of Wonder Woman, Hick's favorite, who had been spirited away to parts unknown, Willy Wonka taking her place. My slot machine is in a row of five of the same kind. I prefer the one on the right end. It had been occupied earlier in the day. Now, as I approached, it looked as if there might be a vacancy.

I rounded the corner and saw that the other four machines in that row were indeed being played. Mine was empty! BUT...the stool was moved over next to the adjacent slot, and a blond woman, balanced on the stool belonging to THAT machine, with her husband or paramour...was leaning her right hand on my stool! Normally, I would have sighed heavily, muttered under my breath, and moved on. Not this day! I stood a minute, surveying the situation, and that Blondie removed her hand. I pointedly grabbed the stool, and drug it over in front of my rightful slot machine.  A Wonder 4 that plays Buffalo, Pompei, and two other games I don't even remember, because every time I sit down, people are playing either Buffalo, or Pompei.

I normally feed this machine $20, and then if it hasn't paid me, another $20, and sometimes punch in my free play as well. This time, I'd put in the two twenties, and was ready to leave, but had a hunch that machine was going to pay me something soon. Besides, I was up $1.43! So I put in another twenty, and hit a bonus on the first spin. That's nothing to get excited about on this machine. It's no Buffalo Gold. The bonuses are pretty much pathetic, usually paying under ten dollars. My wins here come on getting a screen mostly covered with Queens or Kings. It generally pays between $100 and $200.

Anyhoo...I hit that bonus, and was watching my pitiful bonus unfold. There's an air vent right above that slot, and even in my jacket, I was FREEZING. Once I played out this money, I was leaving for warmer climes. I think they make that area so cold because that is a machine that will pay you back.

Anyhoo...I was kind of distracted. Blondie was getting all horsey every time she hit a bonus on her Pompei. Her man had abandoned her. I don't chat with fellow players, and I certainly was in no mood to chat with Blondie. She had the gall to light up a cigarette, and even the whoosh of frigid air from above was not keeping that smoke away from my pristine, rural-air-accustomed lungs. It's like the movement of air pulled her smoke into my realm. Like shower water pulls the shower curtain in on you. Like how an airplane can fly. It's the Bernoulli Principle, people! Look it up.

Anyhoo...I was inwardly fuming at the befouled air I was breathing, and starting an involuntary shiver, my mind not really on my business...when, in Game 5 of my 8-game bonus...my screen filled up with buffalos. BUFFALO!!! My blog buddy Linda will know what I'm talkin' about. I think all but 4 blocks of the 20 blocks on that screen were filled with buffalos. And one of the remaining blocks was a sunset, which is wild. What I didn't notice was that THIS sunset was the 3X symbol. My machine started playing the jackpot music, and spewing a video fountain of gold coins.

I was so startled that I mumbled, "This will be a good one." Not fishing for Blondie's compliments, mind you. Just muttering to myself. Blondie heard the jackpot music, and looked over. "Congratulations! How much IS that?" I could have told her "Nunya." You know what that means, right? NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. But I bore Blondie no ill will. A jackpot will do that to even the most surly curmudgeon.

"I'm not sure, but it says 900 x 54."

It's a penny machine, you know. So 900 means $9.00. Times 54. That hit paid me $486. I didn't get a picture, because I had not been paying attention, and then I was distracted by Blondie, and then the machine went right on with the bonus. So it wasn't like the screen stopped, waiting for me to hit a button to continue. By the time the bonus was over, it was more than $500. I cashed that out and left Blondie to the spoils, if she so desired. Hick also had a good day, and hit an after-lunch bonus of $300-something. Of course, we had put money in to play, so it wasn't clear profit. But we both still left with our pockets full of bills. And assorted change.

That's another thing...why do those machines that cash out your casino tickets not give dimes? Or ten-dollar bills? Is that a bad luck omen? I can't figure out why I get quarters and nickels and pennies, but no dimes. And never a ten. Always fives.

Hick was slow meeting me at the front. I normally wait for him before I cash my tickets. Better safe than sorry. But this time, it was only women in line. I figured I was safe. Women chat with each other, you know. About how they were paying the casino. No luck. Gave it all back. Yet still, they have something left that they're cashing out. When men are in line, they don't talk about it. I just nodded and smiled at those gals. No way was I telling people what I had in my hand, because I still had my winning tickets from before lunch, too.

Let the record show that Hick has now been officially weaned from the joint-bank-account teat, and must from this point forward provide HIS own casino bankroll like I do.

On the way out to the parking lot, Hick told me why the entrance-guarding employees make you lift your free suitcase up over the turnstile/scanner thingy. There's no revolving bar, like a proper turnstile. But two metal half-wall thingies you have to pass between. I always thought they were metal detectors, but apparently they're just counters.

"They said to lift up the suitcases, because the machine will count them as a person. And that it will raise their taxes if suitcases are counted as people."

Huh. Who knew that casinos would be concerned with paying out money...