A casino newbie takes a gamble

Before recently, the closest I'd ever come to a casino experience was hanging out with my dad in the smoky back rooms of pool halls in Kentucky when I was kid. He and his colorful gambling mates — who had nicknames like Skillet and Kool-Aid — shouted, taunted and cursed their way through boisterous games of craps, using the bare floor as their playing surface and a combination of prayers and pleas to make the two white dice hit that lucky number.

Players would slap fives, tens and twenties hard against the linoleum, roll the dice and watch their bets disappear in an instant, only to wind up in some other guy's back pocket at the end of the session.

I spent so much time watching the players back then I never learned to play craps, or any other dice or card game, and I'd never visited a casino.

But every time I drove past the glitzy new Tulalip Casino along Interstate 5 north of Marysville, or watched TV commercials for the Emerald Queen Casino in Tacoma and Muckleshoot Casino in Auburn, I wondered how well three of the Puget Sound region's largest Native American establishments worked as tourist stops for nongamblers.

All three have pumped millions into their casinos in recent years to remodel gaming rooms, bring in top-name entertainers, improve restaurant offerings and even add hotel space, fueling a $787 million overall gaming industry in this state last year.

Following Vegas' lead, perhaps, they're trying hard to capitalize on their potential as all-purpose destinations, places that'll lure reluctant visitors like me.

Sampling the big casinos

Where

• Tulalip Casino, 10200 Quil Ceda Blvd., Tulalip; follow signs off Exit 202 from Interstate 5 north of Marysville. 888-272-1111, www.tulalipcasino.com. Closed 6-10 a.m. Monday-Wednesday; open all hours other days.

• Emerald Queen Casino, 2024 E. 29th St., Tacoma. Take Exit 135 from I-5. 888-831-7655, www.emeraldqueen.com. Closed 6-10 a.m. Tuesday-Thursday; open all hours other days.

• Muckleshoot Casino, 2402 Auburn Way S., Auburn. Take Highway 18 from I-5, then the Highway 164/Auburn Way exit. Turn left and drive about three miles. 800-804-4944, www.muckleshootcasino.com. Open 24 hours daily.

Lodging

The Emerald Queen Hotel and Casino is the sister property of the main casino in Tacoma. It's located in a nearby complex in Fife; 5700 Pacific Hwy. E., take Exit 137 from I-5. 888-820-3555. Rooms start at $109 a night but go down to $69 if you have a ticket to a casino event, such as a concert.

The Tulalip and Muckleshoot Casinos do not have lodging on-site, though hotels are located near each complex and the Tulalips are building an adjacent hotel set to open in 2008.

Restaurants

Each casino houses a variety of lounges and restaurants offering everything from high-end fare to $20 buffets to sandwiches that cost around $10.

Tips

• You must be at least 21 to enter these three casinos.

• Bring cash unless you want to risk paying high fees to withdraw money inside the casinos. I paid a $3.15 service fee to withdraw $40 from one on-site ATM.

• Nonsmokers may sense they are in the minority when walking through these three casinos, but you're not entirely out of luck. Ventilation is good, and the casinos offer enclosed nonsmoking game rooms that are, for better or worse, much smaller and less lively than the main areas.

More information

For information about gambling addiction, visit the Washington State Council on Problem Gambling's Web site at www.wscpg.org.

High rollers, big steaks

Walking up to the Tulalip Casino, set between shopping centers along I-5, is a kitschy treat, full of Northwest symbolism. A huge orca sculpture leaps from a manmade pool at the start of the entrance driveway. Behind the orca, a giant Native American statue stands guard in front of a towering, softly lit rock fountain. Flanking the main entrance are two other massive rock fountains that stretch from the ground up to the roofline, effectively blocking out the sound of the nearby freeway and creating the feeling you're walking between waterfalls. Bulky copper-colored pillars topped with metallic green spheres hold up the canopy over the entrance drive, where valets whisk away guests' cars. Very Vegas.

As the tinted, sliding-glass doors parted and I caught my first glimpse ever inside a casino, all I could do was gawk. The vast main room was lined with row upon row of shiny slot machines gurgling and beeping as images of fruit, animals and other objects scrolled up and down their screens. The marine-themed ceiling above the central bar area sparkled with a ring of hanging amber lights.

It was a Saturday night, and the place was packed with a racially diverse mix of young and middle-age couples, groups of friends, seniors and stern-looking individuals clearly more interested in gambling than socializing. People took drags on their cigarettes as they repeatedly tapped the buttons on their electronic slot machines (no old-fashioned handles here).

People formed U-shaped crowds around roulette, poker, blackjack, craps and baccarat tables, as players drew from huge stacks of colored chips worth hundreds of dollars in some cases.

Stone-faced dealers dealt and flipped playing cards with the unreal speed and precision of master magicians, waving their palms gracefully over the green felt tables to halt betting.

Waitresses (they were all women, as far as I could tell) patrolled the dizzyingly patterned carpet with trays balanced on their upturned palms, uttering "Cocktail?" as they wove between tables.

Supervisors kept watch over everyone and nearly every move.

Poker, blackjack and roulette players mostly kept their facial expressions neutral during games, so it was sometimes hard to tell who was winning or losing.

But the craps tables were passion pits, just as I figured they'd be.

"Hard 8!" one woman screamed. "Come on, baby!"

I watched as a group of college friends cheered a pal who, judging from his yelling, had a hot hand with the dice. He held a small wad of bills in another player's face and said he'd entered the casino with just a few bucks and was now up to his neck in redeemable chips he'd won. The stranger politely acknowledged the boast.

The whole scene was fascinating, but also hard to watch when it was clear people were losing.

The Tulalip is full of distractions, fortunately. Three proper restaurants, including a fine dining spot, a moderately-priced cafe and a buffet area, stood side-by-side at one end of the casino. A lounge and cabaret with live bands occupied another corner.

Tulalip Bay, the restaurant where chef Dean Shinagawa cooks up $50 filet mignon and $45 bouillabaisse, is pure elegance with dim lighting, white tablecloths and a small banquet room lined with wine shelves on one wall, a forest-themed Lucite mural on the other and a golden Dale Chihuly blown-glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The restaurant wouldn't be out of place among downtown Seattle's toniest eateries.

Nice as this two-year-old casino is, things will improve vastly next year when an adjacent $125 million, five-star hotel and conference center, currently under construction, are completed, giving visitors the option of staying the night, getting a spa treatment and dipping into something billed as an "oasis pool."

Remember Air Supply?

All three of the casinos I visited feature performance stages that host local and national acts that'll have you reliving your high-school prom, and that's not necessarily a bad thing.

The list of February concerts at the Puyallup Tribe's Emerald Queen Casino alone is enough to conjure memories of big hair, tape decks, acid-wash denim and bellbottoms. The Australian power-ballad band Air Supply ("Making Love Out of Nothing At All") is scheduled to perform at 9 p.m. Friday. R&B crooner Freddie Jackson ("Rock Me Tonight") performs at 8:30 p.m. on Valentine's Day, the Commodores ("Brickhouse") at 8 p.m. on Feb. 24 and Foreigner ("I Want to Know What Love Is") at 8 p.m. on March 3.

The sprawling Muckleshoot Casino, with its fantastically over-the-top, Vegas-style sign out front on Auburn Way, features mostly local bands that play daily in its Club Galaxy cabaret. When I was there, a band called Nitecrew belted out versions of Top 40 oldies like Bobby Brown's "My Prerogative" and Sheila E.'s "Love Bazaar" with surprising similarity to the originals. Even if the music, and regular comedy acts, don't suit your taste, gambling isn't far away at the cabaret. A bar situated at the back of the room, which is open to the casino floor, is implanted with small slot machines.

The Muckleshoot is, after all, a casino first and foremost, and it was here that I finally worked up the courage to play a little roulette and blackjack, using the few skills I'd picked up along the way. I set a limit of $20 for each game, chump change in a place where game buy-ins can be as high as $500. (See related story at right.)

I can still say that gambling is more of a spectator sport than personal pursuit for me.

I loved watching one ritualistic guy place the dice between his index finger and thumb, then blow on them before tossing them across the elliptical craps table in hopes his little flourish would bring good luck: "It's all about attitude," he quipped to his craps mates, who looked on with quiet bemusement. "You have enough beers, and you'll have the right attitude."

But I did not, it must be said, love losing $40.

Tyrone Beason: 206-464-2251 or tbeason@seattletimes.com