In the vibrato words of Tom Jones "its not unusual" (and that's where the quote ends, but use the Tom Jones voice, please) to reflect on the subject of equality when Martin Luther King Day rolls around. Today, as I think of the sacrifices and the ongoing fight for equality I can't help but wonder how the Reverend would feel about the Casino Class System, popularly known as the Hierarchy of Polyester.* In every casino I've ever worked at (four total) the class system is the same and ever present. I'm not talking about the executives in all their finery. That goes without saying. In fact, putting the executives in the Casino Class System is a sillier concept than an anteater with a cold sore. Heh. I bet that anteater would be so shunned. (Excuse my while I stare off into space and imagine that for a moment)
Now, what is this Hierarchy of Polyester? The Hierarchy of Polyester (HOP) is a system by which casino employees are judged not by the content of their character but by the color of their uniform. Sitting comfortably at the top of the hierarchy are all non-uniformed employees. The secretaries, all back of the house personnel, and front of the house management. Non-uniformed employees commonly make far less money than their uniformed coworkers, however the lack of uniform allows them a certain anonymity that makes pinning them into a specific class difficult if not impossible. As a result, these nameless, unknown employees glide by in their secret world looking down on the rest of us ignorant to the fact that most of us made on average 20,000 dollars more last year than they did. In fact, since these employees don't wear a uniform perhaps they don't belong on the HOP. However, I really like that way that last paragraph read so they will remain a part of this study.
Just under non-uniformed employees are the table games employees. Starting with pit bosses who wear grey or black suits and working down to the actual table games and poker dealers, this is by far the ugliest part of the hierarchy. Table games employees are part of the union, and this has made them entitled and conceited. Of all gaming employees, this group usually makes the most money which causes their noses to turn in an upward fashion. While most 8 hour employees get one break on their shift (a one hour lunch), this bunch gets something like one 20 minute break every hour on top of their lunch hour. As a result, they are constantly rushing on and off the floor in huge packs and anybody that has the nerve to get in their way had better beware. Table games employees stop for no one. Table games employees are above the rules specifically the rule about which doors to use when entering and exiting the casino floor. Since these heavy, metal doors have no windows, all have been clearly marked as to which to enter from and exit from to avoid accidental door attacks. Most employees, even the non-uniformed employees follow this rule to the letter and even when using the proper door open slowly just to make sure they don't knock someone on the other side unconscious. However, table games employees slam through whichever door they please with gusto and most employees feel they do this on purpose to assert themselves as high level HOP employees lest anyone forget. I have personally been a victim of and have witnessed many door attacks perpetrated by table games employees. I have yet to see a single dealer apologize to any of their victims.
As we work our way down the patchwork pyramid which is HOP, we fall on (much to the pleasure of many men and probably a few women as well) the cocktail servers. These are the princess of HOP, and their status has been earned by having the more attractive uniforms offered as well as having adoration and money poured upon them due to the nature of their job. In simpler terms, they are the purty girls with the free booze.
Right below, or often hand in hand with the cocktail servers are the bartenders. Typically handsome-in-a-DBag-sort-of-way, bartenders have earned faux celebrity status in Las Vegas for both their looks, and the fact that catching their attention when you want one is similar to trying to chase down Brad Pitt on foot while he cruises off on a motorcycle. Combining good looks, alcohol, and supply and demand have created a HOP monster and these bartenders are in general awful. In their defense though, I've never been slammed in the face by a bartender using the wrong casino door.
Things get interesting right about now because we've reached the conundrum that is the security department. These are the men and women entrusted with the safety of both patrons and employees and yet...I hate to admit it but there are three levels of security. A hierarchy within a hierarchy if you will. At the top are Big Brother, aka surveillance. Then there are the orange-jacket floor security guards and this is where it gets tricky. Same uniform, same position, two different classes. There are the strong, competent security guards who are lucid, smart, and unfortunately on a power trip. I can't blame them their ego though, as the other half of the split are borderline retarded making them look even more strong and competent. Next time you're in a casino, observe carefully the security personnel and you'll see what I'm talking about. Trying and pick which were hired for their skill and strength versus those where were hired based on sympathy. Make a game of it, just try and stay out of their way or you may end up with a power-tripper who wishes to assert their authority by 86-ing you.
Reader, at this point you may think we've reached the level on HOP that I know the most about. Slots. However, you are wrong. After security fall the front desk team consisting of front desk check-in, concierge, and bell desk. While they make less money than slots, this department still remains above the slot team due to the more attractive nature of their position. Rather than roaming a smokey floor, these privileged few are sequestered for the most part in a smoke free environment while they tend to guest services. However, the nature of their position in dealing with guests upon check in and check out (the two most stressful parts of a guests visit) has humbled them. Front desk team have been yelled at, complained to, verbally abused, lied to, and conned. As a result, their level on HOP doesn't give them an attitude though they have every right to have one.
For a while, things on HOP get pretty gray as their are several miscellaneous positions that sort of lump into one itchy, quivering mass of uniform and ego. Food servers, cashiers, retail workers, VIP services, basically any position where the number of each specifically is too small to create a real class divide gets lumped into this level.
Somewhere, crouched in the shadow of the lump are the lower levels of HOP. In the folds of these subterranean levels lie at last the Slot department. Yes readers, my department is well near the botton of HOP and we are reminded of this constantly by guests who disrespect us and treat us like animals, as well as fellow casino employees from higher up on HOP. Though we make good money (more than bartenders, security, front desk, though not as much as cocktail servers, table games), we are treated as sublevel employees by almost all who encounter us. I blame this on our ugly feces-brown uniforms and the fact that we are constantly wandering the slot floor looking for service lights or jackpots and this may, to the untrained eye, look like aimless wandering. We're looked upon as lazy and stupid, though we are the department that pit bosses and cocktail servers are constantly asking for help on such matters as general directions and what to do if their is minor in the casino.
What departments could possibly be lower than slot employees? The point is moot because once you've descended to the depths of slots, you've reached a happy bunch of misfits who are friendly and amazing at customer service. Being stuffed at the bottom of HOP has given us a humble, peaceful demeanor, and though we sometimes resent being looked down upon by nearly everyone, we're able to overlook it for the most part. So casino porters with their broom and pail need not feel inferior near slots. Kitchen workers with their rubber gloves, guest room attendants with their aprons, we're all the same. Income levels vary, uniforms range from brown, dark brown, mauve, and black. At this point though, we all merge together in a happy, humble mass working together to keep the casino clean, happy, and hospitable.
So there you have it. The Hierarchy of Polyester: HOP. Not all departments are created equeal, but after today's reflection I've come to the following conclusion: if I can't have equality, I'd rather be at the bottom of the class system than at the top enforcing the class system.
Happy Martin Luther King Day everybody!
*It is not popularly known as this, I just made this up.
