For all practical purposes,
this means that if the casino determines there are any irregularities
in the normal function of the machine that would compromise any
winnings or a jackpot payoff, the casino reserves the right to deny
payment.
Since all electronic
gaming devices are governed by an internal computer program, it
is easy for casino owners to check that everything’s on the
up and up. In fact, whenever a jackpot is hit, the machine locks
down to allow attendants to key in codes and information to verify
the payout before the machine is
activated again.
It’s tough to beat
the system, but a 49-year-old woman playing slots at the Tulalip
Casino in Washington State, about 30 miles north of Seattle, did
just that.
It seems Debra Hughes
had an incredible streak of luck on the machine she was playing.
She started out with ten dollars and after roughly 2 1/2 hours of
playing time and lots of winning she had turned that sawbuck into
$12,000. But when she wanted to collect her winnings, the casino
wouldn’t pay her.
The slot technicians
determined that Hughes’ windfall wasn’t gleaned from
a lucky streak. They discovered the machine had been operating in
demo mode, a speeded-up version which allowed the lady to win three
out of every four plays she made, or 200-times more wins than regular
game mode.
After a new game is installed
or an upgrade is made to an existing machine, technicians test the
operation in a demo mode to verify it is operating properly. Apparently
the technicians forgot to deactivate the demo mode when their work
was completed and left the machine vulnerable for a player to make
a killing.
Hughes’ sister,
Linda Jensen, who was at the casino with Debra, admitted she observed
a demo mode notice in the corner of the screen of the machine, but
that it was too small for her sister, who wasn’t wearing her
glasses, to see.
Casino attendants and
supervisors who checked the machine also didn’t see the notice
at first.
Hughes took her complaint
to the top but left the casino without her winnings. Three days
later, however, she was called back and presented with a $12,000
check by Chuck James, chief operating officer of the Tulalip Tribes’
gambling operations.
The money, it should
be noted, didn’t come out of the casino’s coffers. It
was paid by Multimedia Games, Inc. of Austin, Texas, the manufacturer
of the slot machine in question.
Multimedia president
Clifton E. Lind said the oversight was his company’s fault
and not the casino’s. “We let the casino down and caused
the player to be frustrated,” Lind explained.
Even though this particular
story had a happy ending, it should serve as notice for all slot
players to realize that casinos take the “machine malfunction
voids all plays” disclaimer very seriously. If you suspect
anything is wrong with the machine you are playing, even if it’s
in your favor, call an attendant over so you won’t be disappointed
if you hit a jackpot and don’t get paid.
