Battle of the PINs

Loyal Scaiaholics will recall I visit one of Oklahoma's casinos with associates each year around my birthday. Several of us have birthdays around the same time, so we feel a casino junket is the most responsible way to plan financially for the year ahead.

A few years ago, Oklahoma started allowing craps, causing me to revisit the dice control system that had once netted me a small amount of money and also some coasters that still grace my drink cart even today.

But this story begins even before we arrive WinStar.

I don't normally carry much cash, especially not enough to execute a dice control system, so I stopped at an ATM before we left town.

I walked up, put in my card and entered my PIN.

"Invalid PIN," the ATM responded.

Unconcerned, I entered my PIN again. Surely, I had just hit a wrong digit by mistake.

"Invalid PIN," the computer machine insisted.

"Look at that ridiculous family on the screen," I muttered. "'Oh, let's celebrate four digit numbers today!' they probably said when they woke up that morning."

This was getting serious. I needed the seed money to carry out my financial plan.

"Wait," I told myself. "I think you changed it a while back because you realized you were using the same PIN for your bank account as you were for one of your retirement accounts. Also, that's been your PIN for up to, and including, a decade."

I went back to the car to think this out. Every four digit number that had ever carried significance in my life started passing through my head.

Was it my address growing up? Maybe the year I was born? No, those two would have been too easy for a scumbum bent on financial crime to figure out.

Maybe it was the year the Montreal Expos played their first season. No, anyone who properly respects the game knows exactly what year the first Major League Baseball game outside the United States was played.

I jotted down a few options to try before the ATM locked me out... the last four digits of my phone number in Oregon (which feels strange my brain has chosen to retain that information), the frequency of that first station where I worked, the number of the MASH unit from the show (not the one you're thinking of. That would have been too easy. Their rival).

None of those worked, and I had now successfully locked myself out of the ATM.

Ultimately, my bank's app let me reset the PIN, so I was able to bankroll what was obviously going to be a money-making day at the casino.

Then my strategy varied slightly. I believe I hit a couple place bets but then rolled a seven before hitting a point. Next time around, I believe I rolled a four once to hit my buy bet but was still struggling.

"I know what's going on here," I glowered. "The table's full, and I'm standing on the wrong side of the stick-man, so I'm having to shoot lefty. I'm no Roger Maris."

Craps is a social game, though. Much like Roger Maris could rely on Mickey Mantle batting behind him, another shooter appeared to set the dice the same way, so I bet on him and broke even.

An associate had a much more successful day at the slot machines. On the way out, I suggested he may not want to walk around with a bunch of money showing.

In fact, he said he wanted people to know he'd had a good day. So this trip can provide lessons to all of us: It's not wrong to seek help, whether at an ATM or a craps table. And we can all celebrate each other's wins both at the casino and in life.

And I'm fairly certain I've already forgotten my new PIN, so when I go back to cash a year from now, I'll have to reset it again.

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