I needed surgery on my face (something to do with breathing or sinus issues). I had to go through multiple rooms for tests and such.
One was the “upper bowl,” a huge open space that reminded me of an MBTA station. On one side, there was a huge logo for “Hollywood Roulette” and casino graphics. A nurse told me to go there and chat with people for awhile.
These were actually all off-duty or retired healthcare workers who volunteered to counsel patients waiting for surgery. They dressed like showgirls and dealers. A dark wood bar served mocktails only, having only empty liquor bottles for show.
A blackjack dealer told me how good my odds were. A showgirl read my tarot cards with a smile positive bent (“Sure, it will feel like you fell face first out of the tower for a few days. But you won’t miss what was destroyed in the fall.”) Everyone agreed that “roulette” is a bad word to have so prominently displayed pre-surgery.
In another room, a woman forced me to sniff balsamic vinegar and sprayed my nostrils with water “infused with citrine and quartzite, for recovery.” Nothing to do with the casino— just wanted to remind myself to look up those stones later.