Slots of fun?

That’s what I wanted to find out Tuesday night, when I decided to head to the the new Rivers Casino, which is located near Heinz Field on Pittsburgh’s North Shore.

Outside of betting on harness racing now and again, I’ve never been much of a gambler. I learned a valuable lesson in 1979, when I made a total of $300 in bets to various people that the Pirates -- facing a 3-1 deficit in the World Series -- would come back to take the  title from Baltimore. In 1979, $300 was a fortune for a poor college student, but I just had the strongest feeling that Willie Stargell and the Lumber Company would come through in the end.

After making those incredibly foolish wagers, each inning, each at-bat – hell, each freaking pitch -- was like having my teeth pulled without a drop of Novocain. Throughout the next three games, I perched on the edge of our college flophouse couch and awaited the doom that I was certain would drop on my head like the anvil that invariably found the dome of Wile E. Coyote.

When the Pirates finished off the Orioles in Game 7 at Baltimore’s Memorial Stadium, there was no joy in my personal Mudville – just the sense that I dodged a bullet the size of a bullet train. Never again would I bet more than a six-pack or a hoagie.

Even so, I just had to get a glimpse of what all the excitement – and what all the handwringing by the antigambling types – was all about. I’ve never been to Vegas or Atlantic City, so the closest I’ve come to a gambling hall, except for the video poker machines that populate private clubs, was a peek into the slots room at what was then known as Wheeling Downs.

There, in a huge, nondescript room, sat hundreds of people on stools punching a button every 15 seconds like workers on an assembly line. The difference being assembly line workers are paid for that repetitive motion – and they aren’t plied with cut-rate drinks while they do it.

Since I wasn’t sure what to expect, I nearly was bowled over by sensory overload when I stepped off the elevator from the parking garage and onto the casino floor. Bells were ringing, lights were flashing, classic rock was blaring, shapely waitresses were wearing short skirts – it all hit me like a tidal wave.

At first, I didn’t know which way to turn, stumbling around all 360 degrees and causing passing casino patrons to give me  a wide berth. Finally, I saw a queue heading to a desk under a sign that read “Players Club” and decided to get my bearings as I waited to sign up. How it works is you earn points for how much gambling you do that go toward food discounts, free parking and free bets. If nothing else, I’ve become a playa and I’ve got a card to prove it.

Card in hand, I decided to peruse the different machines and games available. I immediately found it difficult to navigate across the floor because there are few noticeable  landmarks in plain sight. However, I learned to use the perimeter walls of the gambling area to get around. Also, the various bars helped me find my way. (Imagine that! A bar helping me see more clearly!)

There were Playboy slots, Star Trek and Star Wars slots, Wheel of Fortune slots, and players could wager at levels from a penny to, in the high stakes room, $25. Admittedly, there were few people in that part of the building, but anyone who can risk $25 on one pull of the handle or one push of a  button isn’t fazed much  by our ruined economy.

As for the clientele, they definitely were north of 35 going on 75, with grandmas in cat-eye glasses perched beside  biker dudes wearing muscle shirts and tattoos, each tending to the care and feeding of their own machines. Elegant couples also enjoyed a night out and took in the stylings of a jazz trio set up in the Levels lounge.

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