He's stroking the slot machine with a $20 bill. That's right. Long, loving strokes all over its metallic torso, its arm, the spinning windows to its greedy, conniving, sexy little soul. He's a gray-headed man in the corner of the Hilton, at three in the afternoon on Wednesday, standing between the chair and the machine, close to it, caressing it with an Andrew Jackson. He may even be whispering in its ear. Nobody bothers him. No one on staff comes up and says, "Hey, buddy, why don't you take a break for awhile?" much less "Can we refer you to a support group?" or "As a part of Park Place's industry-leading responsible gaming program, employees have the power to involuntarily place individuals on the Responsible Gaming List, based on reports of specific behavior associated with problem gaming."
Of course, bathing a slot machine with a greenback may not be problem behavior. It's difficult to say what, exactly, is behavior that indicates a troublesome relationship to gambling—around the corner is a woman telling a blackjack dealer, "I don't usually do this, and my friends are going to be freaked" and a guy at the craps table yelling the time-tired, "Baby needs a new pair of shoes" before pitching the dice. Is he yelling it for lack of inspiration or, dear God, does his baby really need shoes?
Fortunately, Park Place (Hilton, Bally's, Flamingo, Paris, Caesars) has set out to differentiate between good-time gamblers who can safely shoulder the success of a fat corporation and problem gamblers who need to be milked more carefully. On December 9, Park Place announced the Responsible Gaming Program, which will train employees to spot gambling addicts and file "Responsible Gaming Alerts" which may, ultimately, bar them from the casino.
Park Place's timing was uncanny. On December 8, the day before taking "an industry-leading" stance against problem gambling, it announced its new Caesars Entertainment MasterCard—which "substantially expands the power of the company's Connection Card customer-loyalty program by offering consumers the opportunity to earn 'comp dollars' each time they use their new credit card."
The card offers a zero-percent introductory rate on balance transfers but shoots up to a 12.99 percent annual percentage rate on purchases.
Press materials explain, "Cardholders using the Caesars Entertainment MasterCard will: Earn 10 comp dollars the first time they use the card. Earn a one percent comp dollar credit for any purchases made with the card. Be able to use their comp dollars at 15 of the company's domestic resorts... Members earn rewards through slot machine and table game play, as well as through hotel cash folio charges. Connection Card members who use their Caesars MasterCard to pay for a hotel stay at a participating property will receive the one percent credit in comp dollars..."
The very next day, the company announced its but-gamble-responsibly program: "Procedures will be implemented to ensure that patrons placed on the Responsible Gaming List are identified as such in the player tracking system to deny or prevent: promotional mailings or any other type of solicitation; the extension of credit, personal check cashing privileges, receiving complimentaries through the player loyalty program. The program also will provide for the forfeiture of any points accumulated on player loyalty cards."
The rub, then, in this land of PR schizophrenic chutzpah, is in identifying the problem gamblers and filing those Responsible Gaming Alerts. Sure, there will be those who self-identify and ask to be placed on the list and excluded from the temptations of gambling.
But spokesman Robert Stewart says that in the new program, dealers and other floor employees will be trained to identify the reckless or unhealthy gambler and get them started on the path toward exemption from marketing materials and club cards.
"It's about identifying spontaneous, explicit behavior," Stewart said. "If they're having a conversation with a dealer about depression, the dealer will file an alert form ... It's a conversation that may well happen right there."
But what if it's not that overt? What if they say, "I really shouldn't be doing this."
"That will be a part of the employee training," Stewart said. "There are other types of behavior that professionals will help us identify in training."
And what if an identified gambler doesn't want to give his name for an alert file?
"Often you'll know the name ... That will obviously be in the training ... The specific procedures will be different depending on the property ...
"But the main idea is to separate the person who has the problem from the table."
So around the corner from the slot-machine-Don Juan there's a woman at a blackjack table. She's middle-aged, alone, has a stack of reds and a cigarette and a frown. Her hand busts. "Shit," she says. "I don't like the way this keeps turning out." She sighs and opts in on the next hand.
Responsible Gaming Alert or Ceasars Entertainment MasterCard application?