Question of the Day - 06 March 2023

Yes, it's true. As a last resort, the Las Vegas casinos turn to the county District Attorney's office to collect bad debt from gamblers.

Here's how it works.

Mr. A applies for casino credit at the Hats and Horns Casino in the amount of $50,000. He fills out the application (including his employer, Social Security number, date of birth, and banking information), submits the paperwork (including a blank check and a copy of a passport or drivers license), and receives approval. Mr. A arrives at the casino, sits down at a blackjack table, signs three markers, one for $5,000 and two for $10,000, and proceeds to lose the $25K.

Then he goes home without settling up with the casino, puts his head in the sand, and hopes the Hats and Horns forgets all about him.

Or maybe Mr. A just doesn't understand that casino credit isn't like a revolving credit card with up to a 30-day grace period. No sir. Instead, casinos expect credit gamblers to settle their debts before they leave Las Vegas. Casino credit managers frown on gamblers who tuck their tails and try to skulk away, though they might not compel the gamblers to pay up on the spot. For example, Mr. A's credit manager or host can arrange for a short billing cycle (usually up to 30 days, depending on the gambler's credit and play history).

Now, if Mr. A walks without paying or arranging for a disposition, doesn't settle up in the agreed-upon time frame, or wins money at the casino and leaves without retiring his markers, the casino can deposit the marker in its bank account. How? Well, the marker is a negotiable financial instrument. It looks like a bank check. It waddles like a bank check. It quacks like a bank check. The casino simply deposits it, like it does any other personal check made out to it.

If Mr. A's marker bounces, the casino usually deposits it a second time. If it comes back again, a credit manager will attempt to contact Mr. A and come to some payment agreement with him. But if he tries to skulk or doesn't pay, that's when the District Attorney fun starts.

The DA simply puts out a warrant for Mr. A's arrest. This warrant goes out over an extensive network, so the first time a law-enforcement officer anywhere in the country pulls up Mr. A's name for some reason (traffic stop? concealed-carry permit? border crossing?), there he is, with a living-color warrant issued in Clark County for his arrest. The charge? Defrauding a casino.

Mr. A can be, and often is, jailed till he makes bail. He can be held for extradition to Nevada. Meanwhile, the clock on late fees and fines has been ticking. He'll have to pay up in full before the warrant is retired. And he can even be prosecuted for and convicted of defrauding a casino and then he's a felon.

Thus, in essence, the DA is a collection agency for the casinos. 

As for how it happened, our book Joe's Dash tells that story in deep detail. That's because Joe Dorsey, the Joe of the title, came up with it. 

Joe Dorsey was a San Diego detective when he was recruited by the Nevada Gaming Control Board as an investigator; from there he went to work for Steve Wynn at the Golden Nugget as director of security and surveillance; his job description at the GN also involved collecting from gamblers who owed on their markers.

From his experience as a cop, Joe put two and two together and figured out that, since bouncing a marker was no different than writing a bad check, it was a crime that could and should be prosecuted. He wrote, in essence, a police report on a deadbeat gambler from whom he was having trouble collecting, wording it exactly as he would for a check kiter. 

Then he presented his case to John Moran, the Clark County Sheriff at the time (late '80s). Joe and Moran were friendly. Moran assigned a detective to take Joe's case to the District Attorney. The DA picked up the ball and ran with it. It didn't hurt that the DA took a commission on its collection.

Though it took another few years for all the casinos to sign up for the "service," it did catch on and it's been policy ever since.