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My "Psychic" Slot Win  
-by D. Johnson
 Copyright 2010   Slots player extraordinaire.

I can only tell you that the "voice" came through very loud and very clear... and for once, I listened.

     I was playing in Biloxi, Mississippi, at the famous Beau Rivage Hotel and Casino.
It wasn't my first time at the "Beau," and it sure won't be my last.  It was a typical morning.  Players were drinking coffee instead of boos, and the dominant sound was the clean-up crew's vacuum cleaners, rather than the loud buzzers and bells of slot machines.
The Beau Rivage has great casino games, especially Slot machines and slots.    My husband, Michael, was in line at the Player Card desk, inquiring about comps and such, and I was just looking around when it happened.  "It" was a voice.  A comment.  A psychic instruction to play a certain machine. 
     And I know what you're thinking...  Am I a nut-job?  A loon, running from casino to casino trying to capitalize on imaginary "voices?"   I can honestly tell you that I am none of those things.  While I may have had a premonition or two in my life, what happen to me was unique, and unfortunately, not to be repeated.  I was "told" what machine to play, and I followed this information as if I was following orders in the army.
     "Where are you going?" asked my husband.
     "I'll be done in just a minute or two, hon." he said, not wanting to lose me.
      I responded absently by saying "I've got a feeling about a machine over there."  And slowly, as if in a dream, I disengaged from Michael and floated my way over to one of the "I Dream of Jeannie" quarter machines.  I could feel Michael's eyes on me, as he hoped I wouldn't stray too far.
      As is my custom, I start most machines off with a lone twenty dollar bill, not wanting to lose too much, too fast.   I put the twenty in, and got 80 quarter credits.  "Ready for action." I thought.
     And that's' when it hit, too.  A two-thousand dollar "signer," (so named for the IRS form the Casino requires large winners to sign as they pay you.)   
     Now I know what you're thinking:  It's a nice hit, but no big deal.  And you would have been right, except for the fact I hit on the dollar version of I Dream of Jeannie, too, for over $1,000.  And for $500. more on the nickel version.  All of these hits were preceded by "voices."   It was too fun to be eerie, but now that I look back on it, it was all very, very strange.


Author D. Johnson resides in Florida.