…provided some unknown individual at your favorite gambling website decides you’re worth cultivating as a potential revenue source.
It’s true. Here’s the skinny, courtesy of The Guardian:
’US gambling giants face scrutiny over VIP programs: ‘Profits take priority over people’
Reminds me of a friend who once showed up at the office wearing a high school letterman’s-style jacket festooned with playing cards, poker chips and other symbols of casino life on a green felt background.
“You gotta lose a whole lot of money to get one of these coats,” he boasted, seemingly proud of his achievement.
Except how hard could it be, I wondered? Losing money, I mean. It’s gambling, after all.
I realize now this was an early form of something that has now become an industry within an industry: VIP programs designed to provide an extra special experience for a certain type of gambler — one identified as a prime candidate for further exploitation.
Like the onetime interpreter for a Japanese baseball superstar, now himself incarcerated for having stolen vast sums of money from his unsuspecting employer, allegedly to pay off gambling debts. The amount of the theft is staggering: $17 million, directly from the boss’ bank account, to help fund some 19,000 wagers made from September 2021 to January 2024.
During that same period, the interpreter actually won more than $142 million. But the losing bets he made — those totaled close to $183 million.
In essence, he stole millions to pay down his debts so he could keep on playing, only to accumulate even greater debt.
Since the explosion in growth of Internet gambling, folks like that interpreter carry their own betting parlor around on one hip, in the form of a smartphone that never sleeps, and can continue the cycle of betting and losing and betting again, 24/7 in theory, 365 days a year.
Stealing whatever they can to support their habit. Until at some point, the whole fragile edifice collapses on top of them.
VIPs, indeed. Maybe that stands for “Very Incarcerated Prisoner”.
