Reno 97805-1280

Correction to prior post : "3300", per the reference manual in the "Winner Paid" display, is a tilt message that says the hopper -- the thing that holds the coins -- is empty. (Geez; you'd think Winner Paid" meant "Winner Paid.") Since the machine had only 5 coins in it, no suprise there. Hmph. So, Nic's jackpot was more like 50 coins (150, had he bet max). Still, an upper-tier pay combination is not bad for a second-ever pull (958 pulls per hit on that pay combo; not too shabby). I'll continue encouraging him to "invest" his lunch money in pursuit of the elusive 10,000-coin top award.

Note: Correction posted OK, so I won a slot machine at my company's holiday party. (Way to go, me! Hypothetical High-5...awesome.) I mean, a genuine article. Something you read about, or try to win in a charity raffle, and as an employee, pretty much give up all hope after the second year of company raffles. It's now in the "John Room" (aka the basement) at 1280, waiting for visitors to drop in the occasional quarter to have a bona-fide player experience in a non-smoking environment. As far as Nic and I are concerned, it's a giant piggy bank. But that's not the big news. On his second-ever coin drop and pull of a slot machine, my beloved Nic unknowingly hit a jackpot: 3,300 quarters on a "multiple nudge" whereby all 3 reels moved a smidge up and/or down, transforming the payline from 3 blanks to a triple bar, triple bar and double bar -- all bonus symbols. All this on one one quarter. You want proof? Here you go. (Click to enlarge) Notice him point...

Let me explain. "Nic[h/k]olas" in the book of baby names stands for "Victory". I thought it was appropriate, given how my wife's card readings prior to his being born kept pointing to a girl. "So be it," I figured. But there was a dream, during the first trimester and prior to the ultrasound that dictated his gender, that made me think otherwise. There I was, riding behind the driver's seat, looking forward at the passenger seat. And there, peeking behind the seat to look at me, a smiling, dimple-faced, blue-eyed boy. And it hit me: that's my boy. And just as I was saying "Hey, little buddy," he takes a swig from an oil can. OK, I haven't yet figured out the oil can part yet, but the remainder served as a portent of what was to come. I figured it was imminent, but maybe the second child (what with the card reading and all). But on the day of the second ultrasound, the nurse could see what the gender was. She asked if w...