Lunch Time at Greektown

Rain is falling in Detroit. Since starting my new job, I have been walking during my lunch break, usually past Ford Field and over to Comerica Park. The rain is not that heavy, but the prospect of getting soaked and then sitting in wet clothing does not appeal to me. Instead, I walk across the street to Greektown Casino.

I am not much of a gambler, yet I find myself walking into the Casino for a few minutes almost everyday. I watch the people gambling as I cut through the building on my way back from my lunchtime walk.

Today I have more time. My entire lunch break is still ahead of me as I walk past the security guard onto the Casino floor. I stroll through the slot machine area, watching seniors stare blankly ahead of them, pressing the button and watching the electronic symbols fly by the screen. There is no clanking sound of money falling into the tray. Winners rarely cash out, they continue playing, adding their winnings into the money they have already deposited into the machine. Trying to parley their winning into a bigger score.

They are hooked up, almost on life support. Different-colored coils attach players to their machines, as they earn Club Greektown points, hoping to score a comped meal or drink as they pass the time away.

No one is smiling. Few people are talking. Hostesses with tits that are larger than life walk by, asking players if they want drinks. Despite their medically enhanced bust size, no one gives them a second look, and they walk away from the slots area, over to the tables where they have a better chance of catching someone's eye between hands.

I follow the big-breasted woman over to the roulette wheel. Six players, each playing different colored chips, are playing Roulette. Some sit, but most stand, and no talks, other than to direct the Croupier to place their chips on numbers that are out of reach.

The croupier waves his hand across the table. There are hundreds of dollars worth of chips on the table, and no one is smiling. The ball comes to rest, and most of the chips are cleared from the table. No one has placed a bet on 5, although one man who has been betting two squares in the 2 for 1 at the bottom wins a few chips.

Bets are placed again, and again, it lands on number 5. Again, no one wins. Chips are all over the table now, and a man wins on 17. He is payed 35 to 1, and pockets the $100 dollar chip, playing with the rest. He has not smiled. The man is large, easily over 300 pounds, and over 6 feet tall. He is wearing a red sweatshirt, and within two spins of the roulette wheel, he has blown through his stack of chips, and changed the $100 chip he had pocketed so he can continue to play.

Hundreds of dollars have been exchanged for tips from new players approaching the table, and hundreds of dollars worth of chips have been cleared from the playing surface. The large man in the red sweatshirt has ten dollars on 00, and wins, with a payout of over $300. Again, he pockets the black $100 chips, and continues to play. I see the big breasted girl walking by again. Someone has ordered a drink, but walked away before she could return with it. She stands around for a minute and he returns, shoving a stack of chips into her tip basket that is on her tray.

I walk away from the roulette table, to where they are playing Blackjack. Like everywhere else in the Casino, no one smiling. Not the man who gets a Blackjack on the second hand that I watch, or the new people who walk past me to sit at the table, or the older man who slowly lights a cigarette as he receives a 4 from the dealer. It is a $15 minimum table, and the chips are moving in one direction, to the dealer. Finally, the dealer busts, and she pays everyone their bets.

My lunch break is over, and I walk out of the Casino. Like every other day that I walk through the Casino, I walk out with the same amount of money I have walked in with. The rain is falling harder now, and I am glad that I did not try to walk over to Comerica Park. The casino was much more entertaining.