Tampa General Hospital – Hillsborough County – Wednesday, 2.13.2019
A uniquely different promotion is currently underway at Tampa General Hospital, as the Seminole Hard Rock Casino has sponsored the temporary placement of slot machines in hospital bedrooms. Patients will now have 24/7 access to slot machines from the touch of their hand. Large casino-grade machines have been loaded into the rooms, exuding loud noises and bright sounds, exclusively for the patient and their immediate family.
Marsha Beeterman, head of advertisement for the casino, was in the hallway of the hospital helping a team of men unload machines. “Back, back, back, you’re fine, keep going straight, left, keep going left, ok you’re fine… Oh hi.” She notices me watching her. “I didn’t see you there,” She laughs a little bit and looks me up and a down. “You’re prettier than I thought,” She blushes, “Sorry, ‘handsome.’ Haha, you’re more ‘handsomer’ than I thought you’d be.” She slaps her forehead, “Ugh, so stupid Marsha, come on! You idiot!” I tell her to cheer up.
Marsha then says, “Shh… come here.” And waves me into a nearby hospital room. “If you get lucky, we get lucky.” She then motions towards a slot machine, then the lower half of her own body, implying sexual connotations. “You score, you score with me baby.” She puts my hand on the lever of the large slot machine and pulls it down. The reels spin, faster and faster. One trident. Two tridents. Another trident after that. Numerous tridents. “JACKPOT” the screen yields.
Marsha makes hard eye-contact with me as she rips her top off. “I can’t believe this, this is the best day of my life,” I say.
“This was the best place to put these things.” Marsha says. “People in the hospital have the most to lose, and the least to lose, if you know what I mean.” She tries to playfully ration flawed morality. “People in the hospital. They can’t afford healthcare sometimes. So what do we do? Let them gamble. Let them spend their last money trying to stay alive.”
She kicks me in the nuts as hard as she can. I fall to the ground. “You really thought I was going to sleep with you twerp?” She spits on me. “I eat pieces of shit for you like breakfast.” Marsha snaps her fingers and a few of the men who were unloading the machines earlier sprint into the room and immediately hoist me off the floor and eject me from the premises.
I’m sorry this story is just so stupid. But what if they actually put slot machines in front of hospital beds though. Can you imagine that? I can. It feels like the future.