Final Days for the Last Great Bingo Hall?

Irene Flett is a silver-haired pensioner who lives for bingo.

For 30 years, she's been a regular player at the Royal Canadian Legion building on Vancouver's Main Street. Back then, it was the "wonderful" fun and community chin-wagging that kept her coming back.

Now, at 85 years old, playing the odd game at Planet Bingo is literally just what the doctor ordered.

"He said, 'You go to bingo and never mind when they tell you you're crazy or just throwing your money away,'" said Flett. "That's what my entertainment is -- reading and coming to bingo."

Irene's world will never be the same if the people running Planet Bingo get their way. They have made clear their desire to bring slot machines into the building, which for now is the last place in the Lower Mainland running a charitable bingo-only operation.

Wobbling the little planet's orbit are some big forces emanating from Victoria. The BC Liberal government reversed its anti-gambling election pledge, and since 2004 has sharply increased the number of slot machines in the province, transforming struggling bingo halls into lucrative mini-casinos. The recent recession has only increased the government's hunger for gambling revenues, and in the past decade, several glitzy casinos have opened within a short drive of Planet Bingo's doors. And then there is B.C.'s anti-smoking crackdown. Nowadays you're not allowed to puff on a cigarette while waiting to see if your number comes up.

But slot machines are not only far more addictive than bingo, say experts, their presence is certain to warp the culture inside Planet Bingo, a dark cave whose three floors this morning are inhabited by many other seniors like Irene. Many of the players are Aboriginal residents of the surrounding neighbourhood. Most patrons are diehards who leave their splayed bingo cards and coloured daubers only to make a quick run to the window of the Galaxy Grill.

When slot machines do invade Planet Bingo, that will mark the end of a world. Quite likely, these are the final days of this city's last great charitable bingo palace.

Bingo ain't what it used to be

Shaun Thompson's job is to ensure that Irene and her fellow players keep paying up to play the game. He's the marketing manager of the Community Gaming Management Association (CGMA), which has run Planet Bingo for over 20 years.

"It's hard," said Thompson. "We've had a tough time with the economy and the smoking ban, so we've been focused on gaining back our players."

The association donates profits to 86 different Vancouver-based charities. As of 2008, the bingo hall had delivered over $120 million to organizations like the Alzheimer Society of BC, the Downtown Eastside Women's Centre, and Turning Point Recovery Society.

But over the past few years, the bingo business has lost out to nearby gambling giants like the Edgewater Casino, River Rock Casino Resort, and the newly slot-filled Hastings Racecourse. According to BCLC's annual report, Planet Bingo raked in about $16.6 million in revenue in 2008. The following year, that dropped about 30 per cent, to just under $11.5 million.

According to Thompson, adding slots will net more money for charities that Planet Bingo supports. Since 2004, the provincial government has transformed a number of bingo halls across B.C. into lucrative "community gaming centres," mini-casinos offering broader gaming options, including slots and video lottery terminals.

Turning Planet Bingo from a realm of daubing grannies into a community gaming centre would require the approval of both the BCLC and city council.

'Slots would do well here'

While his non-profit has made no formal applications to the BCLC or city council, Thompson said it's no secret that the CGMA -- like any gaming operator needing to boost revenue -- is looking to install "other entertainment options."

"We'd only be seeking 100 to 150 slots, we're not talking 1,200 slots like a new casino would get," he said. "It's a lot easier to fill 100 slots than it is 1,000. I think they would do well here."

In a province that earned $2.5 million from community gaming centres alone last year, putting slots in Planet Bingo or turning it into a community gaming centre may not seem like a tough sell.

But in 2008, city council rejected a request by the CGMA to hold a public hearing for a potential gaming centre next to the VCC/Clark Skytrain station in Vancouver. The plan was turned down because the proposed building "did not meet city eco-density standards," according to Thompson.

"But it was site specific," said Thompson. "It wasn't a denial for Planet Bingo to ever have slots or develop a community gaming centre."

The lottery corporation must also be convinced that slots will offer up a profit, either at a new venue or at Planet Bingo.

"They're in the business to make money for the government," said Thompson.

"If [slots] are not even going to produce here, they don't want to consider it."

Reciprocal relationship

When it comes to the gambling guild, the CGMA has played its cards well.

Back when the original developers of the Edgewater Casino were starting to sniff out Vancouver's taste for gambling, the CGMA was concerned about the effect on its charitable bingo hall.

As a result, a memorandum of understanding was signed between Edgewater Casino Ltd. Partnership and the CGMA in 2003. The agreement provided a lifeline for Planet Bingo should it end up losing out to slot mania.

An unverified copy of the memorandum obtained by The Public Eye outlines a shared commitment between Edgewater and the CGMA towards reducing "the disadvantage that gaming facilities in the City are experiencing vis-à-vis those in other parts of the lower mainland."

In the document, Edgewater commits to finding a new bingo facility for the CGMA. It also includes the gaming association's concerns about "its ability to continue to provide sufficient revenues to its 86-member charitable organizations given the restrictions on the games that CGMA is permitted to offer."

Thompson said the memorandum came about because the CGMA supported the introduction of slots in Vancouver, which meant that the Edgewater Casino could be built.

"In return, the hope was that there would be support for us to have slots one day," said Thompson.

The Las Vegas based Paragon Gaming -- which plans to open a new casino complex at BC Place -- took over the agreement when it bought the Edgewater in 2006. While neither Paragon nor the CGMA would verify the copy of the memorandum, Paragon said the company was "committed to honouring the original agreement with Planet Bingo."

Once Paragon has the application for the new casino complex ready, said Hicks, the company will be able to discuss "next steps." She did not elaborate on how Planet Bingo would be included in the new complex.

Addictive machines

Bingo's pull on the gambler can't compete with slot machines, which are fast, attractive, and full of positive reinforcement.

"Eighty per cent of all people who have a problem with gambling have a problem either with slots or video lottery terminals," said Dr. Robert Williams, the Lethbridge coordinator for the Alberta Gaming Research Institute. "There are some people who have problems with bingo, but it's not nearly to the same extent as what you see with slots."

While games at Planet Bingo take a few minutes to play, a slot machine game can take less than six seconds.

"The thing with slot machines is that they've evolved to be maximally attractive," said Williams. "It's sort of survival of the fittest. These machines are optimally attuned to extracting the maximal money that they can, through this evolutionary selection of the most profitable machines."

"They have the right combination of rewards, lights, and sounds to perpetuate play."

For many at Planet Bingo, the game is a social event. The players know each other, offer up sandwiches. The cards are cheap enough that they can sit for a few hours with about $20, a far cry from the hundreds of dollars a slot machine can gobble up in that time.

Yet, like other forms of gambling, it's the elusive prospect of the big score that keeps people coming.

Helen Sobering, a volunteer at Planet Bingo for 10 years, has heard stories of women losing $250 a day.

"What's the difference spending it here or at a casino?" said Sobering. "You lose it, you lose it, so what's the difference between the two?"

Wander the Planet in search of conversations, and few players are willing to share their names. But most are adamant that winning thousands of dollars isn't the point. And as for slot machines -- they'd rather wait and see.

"Who's to say whether they will bring more business in or not?" said Sobering, standing outside the hall after a volunteer shift a few days later. "We don't know for sure because we haven't tried it. It might be interesting."

We have a winner

Up on the second floor at Planet Bingo, it's a relatively quiet Thursday morning.

A few players are spread out among various electronic bingo nodes, and some daub at paper cards. While the format looks different, they're playing together.

One well-dressed man offers to demonstrate how the bingo terminals work, pointing out the automatic daub button, explaining how to purchase cards.

Players watch television screens showing the call balls being turned up. It's like watching a video of a colonoscopy; mesmerizing and uncomfortably close.

Suddenly, a screech of bingo disturbs the peace, and a smiling senior hurries downstairs to confirm her win. Microphones hanging from the ceiling have picked up her triumph, and the caller, who's sitting downstairs, announces the end of the game. There's a collective sigh of disappointment, but a few claps for the winner.

"She's been here for years," says a nearby player, who considers himself a regular but won't give his name.

He's not convinced slots at Planet Bingo are a good idea. If they were installed, he says, the regulars would take their bingo business elsewhere.

"Are you kidding? They just wouldn't come," he says. "Slot machines just suck the money right out of you. It's so fast. You just put money in, bang! It's over."