"Yeah, right." I flashed a skeptical grin.
Fred led me to a hotel shop where I was gifted an $800 trinket. Then he wanted to gamble and nudged me from table to table stuffing chips in my purse, which I later tallied to be $2900. After this, he bought me clothing totaling $4000 at a Caesar's boutique and topped off the two hour adventure with the words, "Well, it was nice meeting you, young lady, but I'd better be going."
I sprinted back to my room and dumped the loot at my aunt's feet. She shook her head, "I wish I were young again."
I wondered whether this was a common occurrence or a fluke. Did people just give away money in Las Vegas or did the gambling-town gods have a special crush on me?
My answer came a few days later when a man named Craig asked if I'd like to gamble with him. He was determined to hit the jackpot and stalked a row of slot machines like a 12-step program dropout, popping coins obsessively into one, then another and another. I agreed to play an adjacent row with a bucket of his coins. An hour later, I said good-bye, and Craig handed me a hundred dollar bill for my time, which I promptly showed my aunt.
In the 1970's and 1980's in Las Vegas, the generosity of strangers--or more specifically middle-aged men--was as predictable as buffets, headliners and showgirls; and the biggest recipients were those whose jobs involved tips. Small town Americans would relocate to SinCity for a year or two to accumulate big bucks, working as blackjack dealers, bartenders, bellhops, waitresses or even prostitutes. As a University of Nevada student, I met dozens of these folks, who outlined their ultimate goal: to return to their home state to buy property or start a business with their "winnings."
Over the years, Vegas has shifted from big spenders to tourists in order to stay afloat. The scores of "high rollers" from the 1970's and 1980's have either stopped coming due to the deteriorating economy or have gotten snapped up by competitors, such as Indian casinos. Nineteen states permit casino gambling. The growing gap between the rich and the poor has statistically led to fewer wealthy folk, and thus fewer big time gamblers. Casino owners over-borrowed and overbuilt, and the city now has the highest foreclosure rate of any major metro area in the country and the second highest unemployment rate at 13 percent. In an effort to pinpoint a new and steady revenue stream, the family was targeted. Today, the city caters to mothers, fathers, kids and even clowns, who are mostly middle-income and careful with their cash.
Seventeen-year-olds looking for a golden gift from the gods are probably out of luck. A veteran Vegas waitress recently told me, "You used to be able to count on the kindness of strangers. Today, tips are probably the same as in any other big city. Men full of cash are a thing of the past."
(Note: You can view every article as one long page if you sign up as an Advocate Member, or higher).
