What Happens in Vegas

I’m in Las Vegas this morning, to give a speech a to a few thousand technology workers. Last night, I did an AV check and tried to get back to my room without losing all the money in my wallet. I started optimistically, but it was all downhill after that.

The path to my room was cleverly littered with attractive slot machines. I don’t enjoy gambling, but I feel obligated to rationalize my decision to not be a Quaker. So I stuffed a twenty in a Wheel of Fortune slot machine and tapped a lighted button ten times while watching the 20 to turn into a 0. It took less than half a minute. I did a quick mental check, and no endorphins had kicked in, so I decided to call it a night.

By the time I got to my room, I was thirsty, and a nearby Coke machine beckoned. A Diet Coke would set me back $2.75. Somehow that seemed like a bargain. I couldn’t afford to go back to the casino and get free drinks. I stuffed a five into the slot and hit the button for Diet Coke. Jackpot!

When the machine pooped out that Diet Coke, I felt like a winner for the first time in Las Vegas. Granted, I was purchasing twelve cents worth of plastic and sugar water for $2.75, but I tried to not see it that way. Best yet, my change clanged down a chute like a cash payout.

But here’s the evil genius part. Instead of a cup-like receptacle for my change, the dispenser was designed more like a launcher. The coins hit the bottom and shot up and out of the machine. A quarter hit the ground and rolled under the Coke machine. That bastard! My Diet Coke just went to $3.00. Another coin, a shiny dollar featuring some Native American chick named Sasquatch, if I recall my history, hit the carpet and made a run down the hallway. That’s when I noticed that the carpet design was a bunch of round spots exactly the size and color of a Sasquatch coin. And suddenly my Diet Coke cost $4.00. Never have I seen such a well-conceived marriage of carpet and soda dispenser. Next year I’m bringing my metal detector.

I ordered room service because I couldn’t trust myself outside the room again.

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