If you were a con artist looking to separate an unsuspecting victim from his
or her life savings, what is the first thing you would do? Get your target
good and liquored up, of course. There’s nothing like copious amounts of
free booze to dull the senses, lower the defenses and cause you to throw
caution to the wind. It is a cheap and effective way to soften your target
for the big shakedown. Inhibitions melt away, common sense goes out the
window. Let the fleecing begin! The Pennsylvania state legislature is doing
its part to help. In the legalized flimflam game known as slots gambling,
the last thing the parlors want are bettors with the sober good sense to
quit when they’re behind. And so they asked for permission to dole out as
many free drinks as gamblers are willing to guzzle down. Inebriation has a
wonderful way of making the loss of the family milk money seem like a
brilliant idea. Lawmakers are citizens’ representatives in government,
elected to protect the public good. So a proposal to allow unlimited free
drinks as long as you continue to feed the one-armed bandits would seem
destined for unanimous defeat. Right? Not in the land of bilk and money.
Chasing Vegas Lawmakers in both the state Senate and House of
Representatives handily approved the booze last week. It may not be in the
public’s best interest, but it sure helps a few very important and
influential constituents – namely, the slots operators. They argued they
need to be able to give patrons free liquor to compete with other gambling
states, where bottomless drinks are part of doing business. “It’s necessary
to make them competitive,” Sen. Robert J. Mellow, the chamber’s Democratic
leader, told the Associated Press. “It’s that way in all the states that
have gambling.”
And Lord knows we here in Pennsylvania aspire to be like those beacons of
western civilization, Las Vegas and Atlantic City.
Anyone who has ever spent time in a slots parlor knows there are two basic
life-forms drawn to them: the social gamblers who don’t mind blowing $50 for
the excitement of trying to beat astronomical odds. They know they most
likely will leave poorer than they arrived, and they also know when to stop.
They can handle a few free drinks, no problem.
It’s the second life-form that worries me. These are the desperadoes. The
working poor and fixed-income retirees who flock to the slots in hopes of
betting their way into a better life. The old women on scooters and old men
toting oxygen tanks. The young couples who take turns holding their babies
out in the lobby while the other pumps in tokens waiting for the big jackpot
that never comes.
Watching them, you have a sinking feeling they are betting money they can’t
afford to lose. Rent money, medicine money, heat money.
Sheep to slaughter
Many of the desperadoes, at least many of the ones I’ve spoken to, don’t
fully understand the huge odds against winning anything substantial. They
are seduced by the flashing lights, whirring sirens and clanging chi-ching
of coins dropping. They win just enough to keep pumping in more.
And when their pockets are empty, have no fear. An ATM is always nearby from
which to draw out more cash.
Let’s call slots what they really are: an invisible tax on the uneducated,
vulnerable and downtrodden. They pay so the rest of us don’t have to.
What could possibly be more irresponsible than to allow those who profit off
these poor shlubs to get a free pass to ply them with unlimited alcoholic
drinks? Drinks that make them even more prone to exploitation?
Men don’t buy women drinks just to be nice, and neither do gambling
operators. Both have ulterior motives, plain to see.
Many of these desperate gamblers already are like sheep being led to
slaughter. Throw in five or six bourbons and see what happens. Instead of
protecting the sheep, Pennsylvania’s illustrious legislature is doing its
part to deliver them to the wolves.
The free-booze bill next goes to Gov. Rendell, an enthusiastic cheerleader
for slots gambling in Pennsylvania. If he vetoes it, the drinks are on me.
