Nobody says how boring slots are

CHARLES TOWN, W.Va. - The machine is called Black Cherry. Or it's called Go Bananas! Or Double American Beauty.

Nickel, quarter, 50 cents, a buck, it doesn't matter. The routine is mind-numbingly the same.

Feed your cash into the bill slot.

Hit the spin button.

Watch the cherries or 7s or Double Jackpot symbols spin round and round.

Hope you win. Most times you don't.

Does this sound like fun to you?

But this is life at the slot machines at Charles Town Races & Slots, the huge gambling emporium off U.S. 340 not far from Harpers Ferry. And soon it might be life in Maryland, too, if voters on Nov. 4 approve a referendum establishing slots in five casinos across the state.

Proponents of slots say they'll boost state revenues, save the horse-racing industry and keep gambling dollars from leaving the state.

Opponents say they'll be a net-revenue loser for taxpayers, increase crime, and lead to gambling addiction and personal bankruptcies.

But nobody talks about how boring it is to play the slots. I don't know how people can stand it.

Still, on a recent weekday afternoon, hundreds of gamblers swarm over the 5,000 slot machines here in themed areas called Hollywood, Slot City, OK Corral, etc.

You wouldn't believe this place on the weekends, says a security guy. You have to walk sideways, it's so crowded.

"How do they stay awake?" I say.

He shrugs and says he's not a gambler himself.

Walk around the main slots floor at Charles Town and what you discover is, it's still 1955.

The smoking sections are packed. Everywhere you look, people puff away merrily. Clouds of smoke from Marlboros, Newports and Camels fill the air.

Is Ike still the president?

I play Triple Triple Diamond. I play White Ice. I play Enchanted Unicorn.

I win five bucks playing Jokers Wild! And here's what happens when I win: nothing.

Zero, zip, nada.

The machine doesn't light up. Bells don't clang. Whistles don't sound.

"Why didn't the machine go crazy?" I ask a Charles Town employee named Felicia.

Oh, she says, you have to win $1,200 or more. That's when they take out taxes, too.

Great. The machine celebrates when you're on the hook to Uncle Sam. That doesn't seem right.

Neither does the "Gambling Too Much?" sign, urging people to call an 800 number if they think they have a problem.