Casino bingo is RIGGED! (non-poker content)

I have virtually no interest in any form of gambling other than poker. But once in a while I am curious about something and have to try it.

Recently when I was at Palace Station for the L.A. Comedy Club show, I noticed that they had a bingo hall. I commented to the friend that I was with that it might be fun to try that sometime. She has played several times before and quickly offered to go with me whenever I wanted. So last night we did it.

My family had a board-game version of bingo when I was growing up. There was a large stack of cards, and you'd place little plastic disks on the cards you were playing to mark the numbers that had been called, so that you could use them over and over without messing them up permanently. That was basically my whole framework for visualizing bingo, other than occasional scenes in movies and TV shows that take place in nursing homes or Catholic church basements on bingo nights.

Well, that's not exactly how things work at a modern casino, as I was to learn.

We went back to Palace Station. There was a bewildering variety of ways to buy into the session. The nice lady behind the counter tried to explain the options, but the lingo meant nothing to me. The signs and brochures didn't help much, either. With people waiting in line behind us, we finally bought what appeared to be the most basic package: $9 each for a ten-game card. It took just under an hour to play the ten games. It got even more complicated, in that some games used the free space in the middle, while others didn't; some games required just one completed row, while others required two or three, and the final game required every number on the card to have been called. I sure don't remember those variations from the old home game.

I was suprised--though perhaps I shouldn't have been--at how computerized the whole process has become. Maybe half of the people there were actually using automated devices, so that they didn't even have to bother finding the numbers on the cards and marking them. Talk about lazy! But even those of us going old-school had serial numbers on the pages, so that verifying a winner didn't involve rechecking what balls had been drawn, as I've always pictured the process. Rather, an employee just reads off the serial number of the player's page of cards, and another enters it into a computer, which instantly checks whether it's a winner or not. There is maybe 30 seconds total down time between when somebody yells "Bingo" and when the next game is going. Very efficient.

But not nearly as efficient as it could be. Assuming they keep track, by serial numbers, of which cards were sold for a given game, and link the sale to one's player's club card, an entire game could be played in less than one second. They hit a button, the computer randomly picks numbers until it detects that one of the cards sold for that session has hit a bingo, and it announces that the winner is Thelma Stanberg. Done. On to Game 2. Employee hits a button, and beep-boop-bop, a tenth of a second later we have the next winner announced. Repeat ten times, and we're all out of there in maybe two minutes tops, ready for dinner.

Of course, that takes away all of the suspense of being close to a bingo and feeling nervous about whether you'll hit the last number you need before that old witch across the aisle hits hers. The outcome would be the same, however. (Well, maybe not quite. It would eliminate the possibility of somebody failing to win because they overlooked marking a spot. But that's already being taken care of by those who use the computer-terminal thingies.)

From my perspective, it wouldn't be any different at all, because I never came even remotely close to winning. I never had fewer than two open spots left to fill in a regular game, and never less than four spots to fill on a double or triple game, before somebody obnoxiously yelled out "Bingo!" There was no adrenaline rush, except from the mild frustration of wondering why every number set everybody in the room madly daubing at numbers on their cards, while I looked in vain for any matches on mine. I ended up quite confident that they sold me the packet with the lowest number of matches to what was being drawn. I think they were mocking me for being pretty much clueless as to what was going on.

There is only one logical conclusion: Casino bingo is totally rigged! You probably have to bribe either the clerk who sells the cards, or the guy drawing the numbers, or both, in order to win.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go write my letter of complaint to the Nevada Gaming Commission, to have them look into this obvious malfeasance.