Did we say jackpot?
Sorry, we meant no jackpot. Our mistake:
"Stephen Wilkinson was feeding 50 cents a pull into a slot machine at a new Pennsylvania casino when a message board attached to the machine lit up. The message told Wilkinson -- by name -- that he had won $102,000 in a power play jackpot. The woman next to him screamed with excitement. But Wilkinson's six-figure payday was short-lived. [Philadelphia Park] officials soon informed the retired carpenter that the message was sent in error. 'They offered me two comps for the buffet,' said a deflated Wilkinson."
So that's how casinos make so much money. Jackpots become "computer errors," which become "all the crab legs you can eat." Yet another reminder that not only does the house always win, but it also beats you up, pins you down, takes your lunch money and dangles a big loogie right above your forehead.
... But wait! "Five days later and amid mounting criticism, Philadelphia Park Casino officials reluctantly gave a retired Feasterville carpenter the $102,000 'jackpot' he said he won on a malfunctioning slot machine. Steve Wilkinson was presented a check in the amount of $102,000 late Saturday, casino officials said."
We still stand by our original point, re: lunch money, loogie, etc., but it's nice to see the little guy win a big payday.
The Inky is quick to examine this troubling, uh, trend: "Jackpot disputes -- such as the claim by a PhiladelphiaPark slots player that he was denied a $102,000 payout -- are becoming increasingly frequent and could threaten public faith in the industry as casinos spread across the country, several gambling experts said yesterday.
Don't expect any numbers on the growing trend, but there was this nugget, by way of explanation: "The casino was running a promotional campaign in which, each day, it randomly awarded a $5,000 Playerpower payout to a slots player. The prize does not require that person's machine to register a jackpot. [A] casino worker, in an office, was testing the prize-announcement system. She said the worker made up the $102,000 number 'for no rhyme or reason.' She said the worker then punched in the number of the machine Wilkinson was using, thinking it was out of service and not even on the casino floor."
The casino reversed itself partly because of the bad PR that resulted, instigated by editorials like these:
"I have eaten some expensive meals in my day, but nothing compares to the $51,000 buffet at PhiladelphiaPark Casino in Bensalem. Technically, the price is $13.95 per person. But clearly the folks who run the casino believe the all-you-can-stomach experience is worth much, much more. That explains why, after Feasterville retiree Stephen Wilkinson was disrespectfully denied the $102,000 jackpot a Wheel of Fortune slot machine said he won last week, casino brass offered him two buffet comps as a consolation prize."
|