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What Do You People Want, A Neon Sign?!

, , | Right | January 7, 2022

I work at the local casino. A customer comes up to me and stands in front of the three-foot neon sign advertising the arcade.

Customer: “Where is the arcade?”

I just leaned around them and pointed.

Taking A Gamble With These Gamblers

, , , | Working | December 17, 2021

I work in a casino. It’s my first day on the floor after a week of testing on how to comply with gambling and alcohol laws, so it’s not out of my mind that a test might appear. Sure enough, along comes someone who is already visibly oozing anguish. I barely get out “hello” before she starts telling me about every itemized red flag I just went through in training — losing her marriage, her mortgage, she feels out of control when gambling, the works.

I’m picking up the situation, and I have figured out this is probably a secret shopper of sorts, and so I make sure to take her name to my supervisor. My supervisor happens to be a personal friend, so I make a comment on my approach.

Me: “I’m guessing you’ve done this before, right?”

Supervisor: “This is actually the first report I’ve ever filed. I have no idea what I’m doing.” *Laughs*

Me: “Wait, what?”

Supervisor: “Is something wrong?”

Me: “I thought this was a plant. I mean, look at the paper; we only left one box unchecked!”

Supervisor: “I guess I wouldn’t put it past ’em. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure it gets filed.”

Fast forward a month, and I heard a very familiar name over the intercom system calling for the exact same person to visit the customer service desk. Fast forward another month, and it happened again. I started to wonder whether they just recycled the same fake name or something, and then the whole process happened again — but now with a different person.

Maybe leaving treating gambling addiction in the hands of the people making money off of gambling addicts is a bit of a conflict of interest.

Just Your Regular Underage Trespasser

, , , , , | Right | CREDIT: AdrielBast | October 25, 2021

I work at a gas station. This has been an ongoing problem I didn’t notice until last night. There’s a regular who comes in frequently but usually at times I’m too busy to really pay him any mind. I’ve noticed him go into the casino multiple times — our gas station is one of those that have a lottery room — but again, I’m busy at those times so I don’t think much of it.

You have to be twenty-one to even go in there. You can’t just go through it to come in and out of the store if you’re under twenty-one.

Last night, the regular and a friend — an older guy I know is over twenty-one — came in right before we locked up; we were supposed to close in two minutes. The regular made a beeline for the casino. I had only these two in the store, so I actually noticed that he had a pretty young face and didn’t look old enough. Sure enough, after an ID check, he wasn’t even out of his teens. I made him leave after explaining that he had to be twenty-one or over to be in there.

I came in today and explained to my manager, and I learned from her and a coworker that this regular frequently sneaks in and lies about his age or says the owner said it’s cool. Nope.

He came in later today. He bought some soda, and I crossed paths with him on his way to the casino as I was heading out to the main floor.

Me: “Sir, you can’t go in there.”

Regular: “I’m just leaving.”

Me: “You have to use the main doors. Our store doesn’t allow you to even enter the lottery room to go in and out of the store if you’re not twenty-one.”

He just ignored me.

Now, I had to keep my eyes out for him to make sure he wasn’t sneaking in. I decided to talk to my manager because, if he keeps doing this, I think it’s best we stop selling to him until he understands he’s not above the rules. We’ve agreed that if I catch him again, I should inform her, and that I am to inform him that if he keeps it up, we will be calling the police. I don’t know how he’ll react, but I know I sure as h*** wouldn’t want to risk the fines — apparently, they range from $500 to $1,000 just for underage gambling, and trespassing has a wider range — and potentially thirty days sitting in jail.

So Funny We Forgot To Laugh

, , , , , | Working | October 1, 2021

My boyfriend and I had a fun date night out on a rare day we both had off. We went to a baseball game and then arrived at a casino for some more fun. We approached the bar to order a drink before going to play. My boyfriend is a police officer and I am a correctional officer.

Boyfriend: “Hello! Can I get a [beer]?”

Bartender: “Of course! Just let me check your ID.”

The bartender checks my boyfriend’s ID before asking me what I’d like. 

Me: “Could I have a [cider], please?”

I had my ID over automatically because, even though I’m in my mid-twenties, the majority of people joke that I look about sixteen. The bartender looks over my ID for a long time before telling me he won’t serve me.

Me: “I am old enough and it’s obviously my ID. What seems to be the issue?”

Bartender: “You have Interlock on your ID; no alcohol for you.”

Interlock is something put in vehicles for people who have had multiple DWIs. I have never gotten a speeding ticket, let alone a DWI, so I was instantly upset with the bartender. My boyfriend put a hand on my arm to remind me to cool off.

Me: “Sir, I am not trying to be rude, but I do not have Interlock on my ID and would just like a beverage.”

Bartender: “No, I can’t serve you. Here’s your ID.”

Me: “Are you—”

Boyfriend: “Sir, can you show me exactly where it states that on her ID?”

Bartender: “Well, it actually doesn’t. I just thought she looked too young and wanted to make a joke.”

I was silently fuming.

Boyfriend: “We will take the [beer] and [cider] now.”

The bartender finally gave us our drinks and snacks. I glared and made eye contact with him and he quickly looked away. He did not get a tip.

They Be High-Rollin’ And They Hatin’

, , , , , | Right | September 29, 2021

I work at a hotel front desk and dealing with entitled high-rollers is usually fairly easy. It gets hard some days being talked down to and treated like crap; usually, I can brush it off and keep my attitude up.

A guest comes up to me.

Guest: “I’d like to give my high-roller room to my friends here; my host already said it was fine.”

Hosts take care of the high-rollers, giving them free rooms, free food and drink, extra play cash, and all that to encourage them to spend even more money here and not at our competitors.

Me: “Okay! Not a problem. Let me take a look at the notes and make sure they have updated everything properly.”

I get both their IDs and I find — with no surprise — that there are no notes. I hunt through emails but find nothing. I call the host and they have no idea what I’m talking about. Cue the guest getting mad, and she drops the name of her host who, of course, isn’t here today.

Me: “I’m sorry, but the only way we can get this figured out is for you to stop by the host office and talk to them. Per policy, I cannot make your room hosted and free.”

She grouches and grumbles and heads off. Her guest stays with me.

Me: “Would you mind moving to the side so I can help the guest behind you?”

While checking in, I hear her guests talking, and the husband just doesn’t want to bother with the free room and wants to just pay to get in. They go to check in with my coworker, and just as she goes to make keys, the system kicks her out because the host went into it.

By now, it’s too late; the card has already been run. I don’t know if the host fixed it afterward so the amount paid would be refunded after checkout or what.

Not more than three minutes later, the high-roller comes back and starts yelling at me about “letting” them check in without waiting.

Me: “I can’t control when people make a decision. I can only do my job.”

Guest: “This was taken care of and you just ruined it!”

Me: “No, ma’am, I can only go by policy and communication from the host. Since I had nothing here to refer to, I did the only thing I could.”

Guest: “I don’t care! We had figured this out and you ruined it! Rude!”

She starts walking away. I look to my right, thinking about getting my stress reliever out of my bag. This is also in her direction and she takes my look the wrong way.

Guest: “Don’t you look at me in that tone!”

I don’t say anything at this point, just trying to keep my fight or flight response in check.

Guest: “I spend thousands of dollars here—”

I finally lose my cool.


I hear my coworker say my name and I realize what I just did.

Guest: “You don’t f****** care, huh? We will see about that!”

She heads off to the host office. My coworker tells me to go take a break.

Me: “Nope, I’m going to go talk to [Hotel Manager].”

I speed-walked to her office, trying to hold back tears, and when I got there, my coworker had already called her and the host office had demanded a meeting. My manager is amazing and listened to my side before going to the meeting. She told me to go eat some lunch and come back.

After getting calming help from my mother-in-law, who works in another department, I went and ate and then went to wait for my manager in her office. She didn’t write me up or suspend me like I was expecting. She sent me home for the day and said I could come in early the next day. My coworker backed me up saying that I didn’t cuss, just got loud.

The next day, all my coworkers told me how much they wished they could have told a high-roller what I told her. I discovered my husband thinks it’s hot when I stand up for myself. Even that high-roller’s host told me she’s done it, too.

She couldn’t even place that guest’s name in her own head. How much do you want to bet the guest was dropping names to get her way?