Hubby and I traveled to a certain casino in Atlantic City for our Christmas-gift-to-each-other trip this year. It was one of those deals where the casino paid for our airfare and accommodations (and we wound up getting all of our meals except one comped), and all we had to do was gamble.
Whenever anyone has asked us how the trip was, we have both replied, "It was all right."
But I have to stop and wonder here: Would our responses be any more enthusiastic if we had won a boatload of money? Or any money? Does the whole experience get colored by our success (or lack thereof) in the casino? Hmmm....
One thing that was different in this casino was its setup. To get to the registration desk, you had to go THROUGH the casino itself. Hauling your luggage. Every other casino I've been to has been set up so that the casino is in the center, with security people standing at every opening to guard against minors being on the casino floor. But this one forced everyone to march right through the middle of the action.
And speaking of minors, why do people bring CHILDREN to a casino in the first place? It wasn't like there was anything for them to do. There was a pool (outdoor, but with a cool dome built over it so people could actually swim in it), but even it had a sign that said only people 21 and over could use it.
Our flight was late leaving Atlanta, so it was probably around 8:00 PM when we got to our hotel/casino. We didn't stay up super late, and when we went to bed the noise from the room next door was horrendous. There were two adult women and about three or four children, and you could hear every word any of them said. And every other one of those words was "m***** f***er." That's from the kids AND the women. You could hear the video games the kids were playing. Every time they slammed the door. Flushed the toilet.
When we started down for breakfast the next morning, that family was checking out. Hubby and I did a little happy dance right there in the elevator. We didn't have a lot of luck that day, and we turned in very early (our usual bedtime - 7:30 PM) that night. Hubby went to sleep immediately, and I read on my iPad while a football game played in the background. I started hearing something from the room next door and got curious, so I muted the television for a second. I was immediately sorry I had done so. Yes, they were doing THAT, and apparently she liked it. I don't think they came to gamble. On the third night, another loud family moved in. Sigh.
I know I shouldn't stereotype or assume things about people from different parts of the country. The casino we frequently visit in Mississippi is in a very, very rural area. It's where I took a 65-mile bike ride and was at 49 miles before I found a store. That's rural. The first time we went there, we were absolutely thrilled to find a Wally World. Rural.
I expected to find a different clientele in Atlantic City. I even packed differently - no jeans, and only two pairs of shoes: a pair of high-heeled black boots and what I called my "wicked" shoes (destined to be featured on a Favorite Things Friday). Midway through day 2, I would have sold my soul to the devil for a pair of sneakers. Especially after playing craps for a couple of hours, because I had to stand up.
But casino people in Atlantic City were just like casino people I've seen everywhere else. Lots of blue jeans and t-shirts, lots of shorts and flip-flops (hello? 50 degrees is not THAT warm). Now I'm no snob and I'm certainly not one to hand out fashion advice, but I was surprised that people were dressed as casually as they were.
We could have taken a shuttle to any of four other casinos owned by the same folks, but we didn't even venture outside the whole time we were there. And I certainly wasn't of a mind to WALK anywhere.
I'm not sorry we went, but it's not a place we'll probably go back again. On the other hand, if they send us a free trip to Vegas, color me there.
Speaking of colors: We had a pretty good run on the craps table one night, and Hubby was cashing in his chips. I saw the dealer hand him an orange chip ($1000), and I yelled down the table, "We don't DO orange! Get two purples!" The dealers were quite puzzled. Hubby, paying me about as much attention as he usually does, happily took his orange chip. And gave it back to them the next day.