One of my favorite places to visit as a child was a traveling carnival. These events always had a unique smell and sound of their own. Cotton candy, caramel corn, and hotdogs, blended with diesel fumes from a noisy generator, made for a sensarific experience.
You won’t find sensarific in Webster’s Dictionary because I just made the word up. For those wondering, the obnoxiously loud and fumy generator was needed to power all of the carnival lights and equipment.
I wasn’t into terrifying rides like my brother, enjoying games and unhealthy food more than anything. Jim, on the other hand, loved the roller coaster or Scrambler most of all. There’s something about popping balloons with darts that rang my bell. I was an expert at it, always walking away with tiny cloth toys or plastic rings.
Some fire and brimstone preachers might’ve said this was gambling, a game of chance, because had I not hit a balloon, I came away with nothing. To me, it was purely entertainment and a chance to prove my skill to Dad and Mom. A multi-colored Ferris wheel suited my fancy where exciting rides was concerned during that time, because they were relaxing and offered a good view of the country.
When I was 18 or 19, I drove to a small carnival with friends and decided to ride the Tilt-A-Whirl. I’d been on one at an earlier age and didn’t like it. To me, it seemed like the cars were striking one another, with this having me petrified. I’d heard about carnival rides coming apart and killing people from other kids. The only reason I rode this time, was because Jeff, Michelle, and Cathy were going, and I didn’t want to look like a wimp.
After our ride ended, I scurried behind a concession trailer and ridded myself of a chili dog and Coke. Early the next morning, preparing to go to work, I reached in a back pocket finding that my wallet was missing. Driving to the carnival grounds where all workers were fast asleep in small trailers, I quietly made my way to the Tilt-A-Whirl and looked through each car.
Lucky for me it was still there with a meager amount of money inside. Some unscrupulous “carnies” are known to collect such booty after they close for the night as a tip of sorts. I’m sure not all carnival workers are this way.
As I grew older, I still visited carnivals whenever they came to town, getting a kick out of merely strolling around and watching people partake in the activities. In Alaska, little children coming from rural areas are most excited, especially those attending a carnival or fair for the first time. The smiles on their faces don’t go unnoticed.
Three weeks ago, after dropping my wife off at the Las Vegas airport, I decided to stop at Sunset Station casino for a potty break before driving back to Lake Havasu City. I generally take a break there knowing that the restrooms are super clean.
Over the years, while inside, $5 was fed into a Cops and Donuts video game. Almost every time, I’d end up making three or four bucks extra. I’d then cash out and purchase a Starbucks hot chocolate before leaving, with the casino graciously paying for my drink. Because of Covid, I haven’t been there in a while.
Three weeks ago, Joleen was traveling to Colorado, and after letting her out at the airport drop-off ramp, I decided it was safe to hit Sunset Station once again, with a mask on of course. The public rest stop on US95 was closed on the way in to Vegas for some odd reason, and I didn’t want to try driving back 150 miles on a loaded tank if you get my drift.
Walking into the casino for the first time in 7 years, I noticed right away that the Cops and Donuts game was gone. That bummed me out because I was counting on it paying for a raspberry mocha with whip cream. Heading to the restroom, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a huge video game with bright lights much like a carnival would have. A decision was made right then and there to try that game before leaving.
Walking over to it, and using the $20 bill that Joleen gave me for food and drinks, I decided to make a financial investment instead with this cash. Seeing that the name of the game was Jackpot Carnival Extreme, reassured me that what I was about to do with her money was not gambling, but simply entertainment.
The outlandish graphics on the machine had clowns and balloons, along with other items found in carnivals and circuses. One of them was a large wooden mallet like those used to ring a bell. After only two hits of the start button I was up $104. Quickly cashing out, my feet couldn’t get out of that smoky joint fast enough. I was ever so thankful that doors were close by.
Just this past Saturday, 10 days after her last trip, I let my wife off at Harry Reid International Airport once again before starting back home. Anxious to use the restroom at Sunset, but more so in trying that crazy carnival game again, I deposited another $20. Just like the time before, on the second push of the button, a $155 jackpot was hit.
Cashing out like before, Joleen was immediately called and told the news. She was excited, but also advised me to stick part of my winnings in the bank, knowing fully well that, “Mike and his money are soon parted!”
I’m not sure when she’ll be taking another trip without me. When that time arrives, you can bank on me making another appointment with Jackpot Carnival Extreme at Sunset Station. If what they say about the third time is true, there’s no telling how much I’ll walk away with.
Should that not happen, with what I’ve already won, this Las Vegas casino will be paying for my hot beverages until the cows come home. That thought alone is enough to put a chocolate-stained grin on my face with a smidgen of whip cream.
I like to write junk... 