Tale of the Hand Pay Off

During my fantastic slot win, it became obvious that the jackpot was going to give me my first-ever hand pay. 

When I went over $1,200, I tried to send The Pony a text that I got a hand pay. Only autocorrect told him I got a hand-BAG, heh, heh. Good thing I caught it. I don’t think his eyes could have stood any more rolling, after that tremendous ocular revolution during lunch, when I used Diet Pepsi to remove a stain on my shirt, explaining that it was for when I'd get my picture taken after winning a big jackpot.

I was also taking pictures of the slot screen, with that cocktail waitress behind me. I said, “I’ll get in trouble for taking pictures, but I’ve gotta try.” She said, “Oh, not if you don’t have anyone else in the picture.” Obviously, she never worked at Downstream Casino, where Val is Public Enemy #3!

She called the payer-offers on her radio when I was up to about $4000, to tell them they would be needed for a hand pay. When the guy came, he was wearing a clear face shield to protect himself from my cooties! Anyhoo… he asked if I wanted only federal taxes held out, or state also. I told him both. There’s a record of that money, and I might as well get it over with now, and not have the taxes dangling over my head until next April.The casino is required to take out federal taxes on a win over $1,200, but not state taxes.

THEN he asked how much I wanted in a check. I said, “You mean I can take CASH?” And he said yes, if I wanted, I could get it all in cash. So I jumped at that chance! He left with my ID and player's card, and returned about 10 minutes later with two other guys.

I signed the paperwork. He counted out $6,213.32 in 61 hundreds, 5 twenties, 1 ten, 3 dollars, and coins. I gave him a tip of $40 for his trouble. The casino channel I watch on YouTube says a tip of 1 percent OR $20 is sufficient, whichever is less. So while I felt cheap, I actually gave him twice what is standard (in Vegas, anyway). I'm pretty sure that's the reason he didn't count out 62 hundreds! Hick would probably have given him nothing. Hick won't even pay the paperwork fees when buying a new car.

The one casino guy got shut out, but all he did was carry out a clipboard to hand the guy who was paying me. The other one was a security guard who offered to walk me to my car. I told him I didn’t need that, because my husband was there. The Pony said he was probably wanting a tip, too! I figure it’s standard procedure to offer a security escort. If it had been night, I might have done it. But Hick was picking us up at the door anyway.

Here’s the thing! THEY DIDN’T EVEN TAKE MY PICTURE! Though they DID announce over the PA system that there was a ANOTHER BIG JACKPOT WINNER. So I had cleaned my casino uniform shirt with Diet Pepsi for nothing! I told The Pony that was irony, and he said it wasn’t. That irony would be if they took my picture, after I left the stain at lunch, saying, “At least I’m not getting a picture taken for winning a jackpot.”

The Pony also said they probably didn't take my picture because I took my jackpot in cash. Since people you see in the winner pictures are holding a big check. Heh, heh! I'd never be able to fit a giant check in my gambling purse! Of stuff it in the drive-thru canister at my bank! (Yes, I know they'd give me a regular size check for the actual jackpot.)

I can't believe Hick didn't come back to share in my celebration. The Pony went to find him, and reported that Hick just said, "Huh."

Anyhoo... I had a grand time sitting there at my slot, which was playing that little hand pay tune that I'd recognize anywhere. I was actually kind of sad when it quit after about 10 minutes. Normally, I'd be annoyed that it attracted attention. But I wasn't! I guess it was the endorphins. I even talked politely to a lady and her husband who sat down at the slots next to me, peering through the clear plastic to ogle my win.

I'm not even calling them weirdos.