Gambling – at least in the way that Las Vegas was notorious for – wasn’t Henry’s thing. It was a waste of money if someone didn’t win and even when someone did, it was that flash in the pan that kept someone stuck at a slot machine, feeding it everything from pennies and nickels to even a few hundred or thousands of dollars for the chance to strike it bit; but there was one monumental and unavoidable truth about Las Vegas that, a few errant coins in his pocket from souvenirs purchased with cash, Henry couldn’t ignore.

Gambling would happen.

In no big expanse or scope, there was an ever-present draw to the chime of slot machines, the colorful lights, and excited spectacle when someone did win even a small amount when someone was walking the casino floor with little more to do with their time than wait – be it for someone to wake up, the pool to open so the hottest part of the day could be spent somewhere cool, the clubs to start accepting entries through their doors, or call time for a show not far away to hit. Idle time made for idle hands and idle hands were easily the devil’s plaything – even if it was just with a few quarters.

The façade of the slot machine was of no importance to Henry as he found one to sit down at, not necessarily wedged in between two people and – unfortunately enough – not near the entrance or exit points of the casino where they opted to put the winning machines in hopes of drawing people in. It was simply vacant, spacious, and didn’t require that much money to plunge in headfirst for a few lines in hopes of at least making more money than he had gone in with. Long gone had been the analog reels, digital displays replacing the technology of old – something he was sure only worked in favor of the casino and not the person manning the machine, another truth easily found in the fact the house always won.

And even the notion of breaking even – something Henry had done throughout a few figurative pulls of the lever – still changed the air about him, not so keen to losing or evening out the more and more effort he had put into actually winning short of hijacking the machine himself. With printed ticket vouchers, that would get him nowhere fast other than kicked out of a casino for life – however long that actually lasted these days.

“Oh, c’mon,” Henry mumbled, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in the seat to stretch out his back for a moment, the tension there unwarranted considering the unimportance of a few quarters, but all the same, a present annoyance. The impulse to get up and find another machine was strong, but wasn’t that another rule of gambling in Las Vegas? If you’re going to stay with a machine, stay with that machine because someone else would just come in after to get the big win? Especially after as many spins as he had already gone through? Henry’s brow piqued on his forehead as he thought about it, eyes closing in mild frustration and perhaps a small prayer that there would be some turn around in his favor with the next pull.

Ups and downs – that was all it was in the swirl of coins and cherries and sevens and Lord only knew what else had been programmed into the machines in a long-standing matching game, and by the time Henry had cashed out, staring down at the single cent voucher, the annoyance might have been palpable.

It was even worse when he had stepped away and he could already hear the sound of the reels, the machine chiming with the win on what would have been the fourteenth spin, thirteen just not as lucky as he subconsciously banked on.