Tonight was NOT a good night at the NY-NY casino. I made five whole dollars. Not only that, but for the first time the smoke really affected me. Half-way through my shift my eyes were bloodshot, burning, and tearing. I think it was the large number of cigars being smoked that did it.
The worst thing was the sense of being invisible. Usually, even if folks are disinterested, they'll at least make eye contact and say, "No, thank you." Tonight, I (mostly) received no acknowledgment at all. It was very depressing, to say the least. By the end of my shift, fatigue and discouragement lent the scene a surreal quality. All the noise of the machines, the lights and drifting smoke combined to disorient me.
Patrons resembled automatons, mechanically punching buttons and pulling levers. I walked the aisles between the slots, cheerily chirping, "Massage - Massage?" To no avail. I truly was invisible.
It was heavenly to get home and be greeted so wildly and enthusiastically by my dogs. I finally felt solid and connected. Acknowledged. Visible.