In a world where equality is usually the ideal and not the reality, there is but one beacon of parity and fairness where one can sit at the table of brotherhood... and bet it all on a game of chance.
The casino is the one place where everyone is guaranteed to be equal-everyone's a loser. Regardless of race, religion, class, creed, national origin or SAT score, everyone has an equal opportunity, an equal destiny, to lose money at the casino.
After a few years of experience and my fair share of silent, introspective trips back from the casino, I've deduced that there are only three moments in life when you are truly \equal"" to your fellow man: the minute you're born, the minute you die and the minute you stay at 20 just before the dealer makes 21.
Take my most recent trip to the casino: While my buddies Eric and Matt graciously ""donated"" the contents of their wallets to the fine hosts at Oneida Bingo & Casino, I ended up $5 ahead at the end of the night. Was I a loser? Maybe not that night, but I was really just delaying the inevitable by a visit - I'll be back again one day down the road, ready to fight another battle in a war I simply cannot win.
My view on casinos is not at all a product of low self-esteem: I have accepted (and quite possibly even relish) the idea that, in the end, I will not come out on top in my life as a casino gambler... because neither will you. While I may not share a single similarity with the chain-smoking old woman pumping quarters into the slots in the outside world, inside we are brother and sister, equal under the eyes (or surveillance cameras) of the casino.
One of the great equalities afforded by the casino is The Face. The Face is a lot like the ""bitter beer face"" one makes after swallowing a skunky swig of ale, but with half the wincing and none of the enjoyment of drinking a beer. No matter where you go in the casino, or what game you play, you will see (and make) The Face. When the final card is turned or the last credit played, lips will pucker, eyes will squint shut and heads will jerk back, as if slapped by the Invisible Man himself.
The casino is not necessarily a ""house built of cards,"" but rather, a house built of ""should'ves."" I should've quit while I was ahead. I should've played one more hand. I should've put my money on black. I should've taken that statistics class. I should've stayed home and stared at the wall. Everyone who enters that house will be thinking the same thing on their way out: that they should've done something-anything-different while inside.
Nevertheless, the casino is fun and exciting for the same reasons it provides equality. We all know what the final outcome will be, yet we love the possibility that one time, the next time, we could win. Like lemmings to a cliff, we are drawn to the edge, certain that a plummet to our doom does not await.
Next time you go to the casino, whether it be Ho Chunk or Caesar's Palace, Lac de Flambeau or the Golden Nugget, I wish you the very best of luck. But keep in mind-my money is on the house.
Peter is a junior majoring in journalism and history. He can be reached at writePNL@yahoo.com.
