Sue The Casinos

I am sympathetic to the woman who is suing to recover her losses from problem gambling, but disagree with her analogy to problem drinking, where bars can be held liable for providing too much liquor to patrons. In those cases, drunk driving and the slaughter of innocents can ensue, but there is no such wreckage with problem gambling. There can be wholesale destruction of family finances and family life, of course, but as bad as that is, it does not compare in scope and scale, and society suffers less for it. Maximum freedom for all does have its downside, but we should prefer it, compared to the overly-oppressive nanny-statism that is the alternative approach.

Now, it's important to remember that, with the various ways casinos now have to track patrons, such as those ID cards they now foist on customers, that casinos know to a surprising degree who is a problem gambler and who is not. I remember, after long, losing nights at Cache Creek in the 90's, that as I returned from the bathroom, I would pass by blackjack dealers heading on break, who would quietly whisper "Go home!" as they passed by. I mean, the dealers, as well as the casino, knew. The casinos knew there was a problem, but not only did they not have a duty to cut me off, they didn't particularly care to do so, since it was their livelihood to keep me going (although I must thank the dealers for having a heart). This was a consequence, unfortunate as it may have been, of personal freedom.

This woman needed to go home.....

She was an ambitious lawyer and TV commentator who starting going to Atlantic City casinos to relax and soon was getting high-roller treatment that included limousines whisking her to the resort.

Arelia Margarita Taveras said she was even allowed to bring her dog, Sasha, to the blackjack tables, sitting in her purse.

But her gambling spun out of control: She said she would go days at a time at the tables, not eating or sleeping, brushing her teeth with disposable wipes so she didn't have to leave.

She said her losses totaled nearly $1 million.

Now she's chasing the longest of long shots: a $20 million racketeering lawsuit in federal court against six Atlantic City casinos and one in Las Vegas, claiming they had a duty to notice her compulsive gambling problem and cut her off.

"They knew I was going for days without eating or sleeping," Taveras said. "I would pass out at the tables. They had a duty of care to me. Nobody in their right mind would gamble for four or five straight days without sleeping."

...The casinos denied any wrongdoing, maintaining in court papers that Taveras brought her problems on herself. Casino representatives either declined to comment for this report or did not respond to repeated requests for comment.

...Paul O'Gara, an attorney specializing in Atlantic City gambling issues, said it will be difficult for Taveras to prove that the casinos knew she had a problem but ignored it.

"How are you supposed to know whether this was a woman who was just having a good time, or had money and was just lonely, as opposed to someone who couldn't control themselves?" he said.

...As a young lawyer, Taveras made a name for herself representing the families of victims of American Airlines Flight 587, which crashed in New York City's borough of Queens in November 2001, killing 265 people.

Her practice had 400 clients and earned her $500,000 a year. She appeared on TV and radio to discuss legal issues, wrote a guidebook for women dealing with deadbeat dads in the court system, titled "The Gangsta Girls' Guide To Child Support," and was a regular contributor to Hispanic culture Web sites. In 2000, the New York Daily News named her one of "21 New Yorkers to Watch in the 21st Century."

As an escape from the seven-day-a-week pressures of her law practice, she started going to Atlantic City to unwind in September 2003.

During one five-day gambling jag at Resorts in June 2005, Taveras said, she existed on nothing but orange juice and Snickers bars that the staff gave her. On the fifth day, she said, a dealer told her to go home because she appeared exhausted and unable to keep track of her cards.

Taveras spent nearly a year in clinics to treat her gambling addiction. She filed her lawsuit last September, representing herself, and is now working at a telephone call center in Minnesota.

"Everybody says 'You gambled and you enjoyed yourself, then lost your money and now you want it back,'" Taveras said. "They think gambling is fun. It isn't, believe me. Not when you get like I did."