When Casino Customer Service Is a Simple Act of Kindness

Something happened last week and I must share the story with you.

A Las Vegas sportsbook isn't typically the place to expect great customer service nor witness genuine acts of human kindness. Betting money on sports can bring out the worst in people. Trust me, I know.

I walked into The Orleans about 2 pm on Tuesday. The Orleans is widely considered as a "locals" casino. But it also caters to a wide cross section of visitors. I've always liked The Orleans. I've played lots of poker there. I've bet on lots of sports there. I've enjoyed many meals there. And, you can't beat the free parking.

Tuesdays tend to be the slowest day of the week during this time of year. So, only two tellers were open -- one for horses and the other for sports. I stepped up to the sports betting window. However, an older man was in front of me. He got to the betting window first.

An Uncertain Sports Bettor

The man looked to be 80, or so. He was poorly dressed and seemed a little slow, both physically and mentally.

The man pulled out a sports ticket from his pocket. But he appeared confused. I could hear the entire conversation from there onward.

The man had bet on the Raiders-Falcons game, played the night before. The man had the Raiders +6. The final score was 15-9 won by the Falcons, so the game was graded neither a win nor a loss, but rather a "push." A pointspread *tie* means the player gets his money back. The man didn't understand any of this.

For next next few minutes (yes, minutes!), the teller did his best to explain why the ticket didn't net any profit. He spoke very carefully and slowly. Never once did the teller show impatience or annoyance, even though I found myself becoming increasingly irritated by the back-and-forth exchanges over such a trivial question.

Finally, the man accepted his fate. Accordingly, the teller reached into the drawer and pulled out a $5 bill. He jokingly told the man that by breaking even on the game, he was probably ahead of 95 percent of the people inside the sportsbook at that instant. Truth be told, he was absolutely right. Once again -- believe me, I know (having lost $1,500 the weekend before).

The man grabbed the $5 off the counter but before leaving the window, he wanted to know what football games were playing tonight. Umm, excuse me--this isn't the place to be handicapping football games--can we move it along please! (note: that's the bad me fuming, thinking to myself). 

The teller responded with another courteous reply, yet another after another, informing the man about a college bowl game. "West Virginia is playing Memphis," he said ... followed by a report as to the spread, moneylines, and the total. The man stood there for what seemed like eternity. Then, he said "thank you" and shuffled his feet away across the carpet without making another wager. The teller thanked him and wished him a pleasant afternoon.

That's when it all hit me. Like a ton a bricks. I had to say something to the teller.

The Dying Art of Casino Customer Service

I stepped up to the counter and asked him his name, which was *Eric.* I told him I'd witnessed the entire exchange with the man. I don't have a transcript of what I told him, but it went something like this:

"Eric, I want to thank you. You didn't know anyone else was watching what just happened--but I was. You made that man feel like a high-roller. You made that man feel like his $5 bet was the most important wager in the sportsbook today. You took the time to make that man feel special. You knew he didn't have much money in his pocket. You knew he likely wouldn't leave a tip. You knew that his confusion and lengthy questions were costing you and The Orleans money, but you still treated him -- at least for a few minutes on his day -- like he was the most important man inside this casino. And sadly, that's a lost art form in Las Vegas and everywhere else nowadays. We do not see enough moments like this. So, let me share with you that I noticed what you did and how you behaved when you didn't have to do any of that. A genuine act of human kindness is the greatest gift for a stranger."

The look on Eric's face at that instant was priceless. He was speechless. Even I teared up a little at that moment, seeing the old man slowly walking off in the distance, unaware he'd triggered an odd interaction that could never have been predicted, that seemed so out of place in this setting, and was so utterly trivial in every way, yet also so powerful. Indeed, an act of kindness can trigger one more, and another and another. And ultimately, we are *all* better for it.

Unfortunately, I didn't have my phone with me, or I would have snapped a photo of Eric. Perhaps it can be shared with the right people. I hope someone from The Orleans Race and Sportsbook reads this and gives Eric (sportsbook teller) the praise and encouragement he deserves. We need more of this. We need *much* more of this. When we see it, or we experience it, such acts should be noticed and acknowledged. Kindness can be infectious.

Yes, I was lucky to cash a winning sportsbook ticket last week. But I took away something far more valuable.

(Image: Chon Kit Leong / Alamy)