Compulsive Gambler Chases $20M Long-shot Suit
Against Casinos
Source: Newsday.com, Wayne Parry, March 8, 2008.
She
started out as an ambitious lawyer and TV
commentator who got to know the staff in Atlantic
City casinos, and soon limousines were whisking her
to the resort for the high-roller treatment.
Arelia Margarita Taveras says 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 the table, and sometimes
passing out.
She
says her total losses amounted to nearly $1 million.
Now
she's chasing the longest of long shots: a $20
million racketeering lawsuit 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.
Experts say her case will be difficult to prove, but
it provides an unusually detailed window into the
life of a problem gambler.
"It's like crack, only gambling is worse than crack
because it's mental," said Taveras, 37, a Queens,
N.Y. native who now lives in Minnesota. "It creeps
up on you, the impulse. It's a sickness."
She
lost her law practice, her apartment, her parents'
home, and still owes the IRS $58,000. She said she
even considered swerving into oncoming traffic to
kill herself.
In
interviews with The Associated Press, Taveras
admitted she dipped into escrow accounts she
maintained for clients to finance her gambling
habit. She was disbarred last June, and faces
criminal charges stemming from those actions, but is
trying to work out restitution agreements in order
to avoid a prison term.
Her
lawsuit, filed in U.S. District Court in New Jersey,
names Resorts Atlantic City, Trump Plaza Hotel and
Casino, Trump Taj Mahal Casino Resort, the Tropicana
Casino Resort, the Showboat Casino Hotel, Bally's
Atlantic City, as well as the MGM Grand Hotel and
Casino in Las Vegas.
The
casinos deny any wrongdoing, claiming in court
papers that Taveras brought her problems on herself.
The casinos either declined comment for this story,
or did not respond to repeated requests for comment.
Last month, a judge dismissed the Trump casinos, the
Tropicana, Showboat and Bally's from the lawsuit on
technical grounds, but allowed Taveras to re-file
the suit against them by April if she specifies in
greater detail what she alleges they did wrong. It
remains in effect against Resorts and MGM because of
more specific allegations against them that were
made in the suit.
"They (the casinos) 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."
Joe
Corbo, president of the Casino Association of New
Jersey, said casino workers undergo extensive
training on how to spot problem gamblers and refer
them to help, including a self-exclusion list the
state maintains. Gamblers can voluntarily bar
themselves from casinos, either for a few years or
for life. While on the list, casinos cannot solicit
them.
Dan
Heneghan, a spokesman for the state Casino Control
Commission, said 663 people are on the list _ an
all-time high.
"This can be a delicate situation, and it comes down
to an individual's personal responsibility," Corbo
said. "We can only suggest that they receive
assistance and provide information how they can
obtain help, but it is up to them to commit to seek
it."
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.
Arnie Wexler, the former head of the Council on
Compulsive Gambling of New Jersey, estimates there
are 5 million problem gamblers in the United States,
with another 15 million at risk of becoming
compulsive.
"Hers is not a rare case, believe me," said Wexler,
who says he had a gambling problem. "This is the
most powerful addiction you can have without putting
something into your body. You remember your first
big win, and you think, `Hey, I can do this again; I
can get it all back."
Lawsuits like this are not uncommon, Wexler and
others said. He said they rarely succeed because
courts _ and society _ seem to apply different
standards to compulsive gambling than they do to
other conduct.
"We
treat gambling differently in this country than we
do alcoholism or drug abuse," he said. "We look at
alcoholics and drug addicts as sick people. We look
at compulsive gamblers as crooks."
As
a young lawyer, Taveras made a name for herself
representing the families of victims of American
Airlines Flight 587, which crashed in 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 in the
court system with deadbeat dads, titled "The Gangsta
Girls' Guide To Child Support," and was a regular
contributor to the 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. While she said she also
gambled at the other casinos listed in her lawsuit,
she spent most of her time _ and money _ at Resorts,
dropping $850,000 there in two years.
By
March 2005, a Resorts supervisor warned her to slow
down, according to the lawsuit. She refused the
advice, and declined to put her name on the
self-exclusion list, denying she had a problem.
During one five-day gambling jag there in June 2005,
Taveras says, she existed on nothing but plastic
cups of orange juice and Snickers bars that 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 the cards she was playing.
A
month later, according to her suit, Taveras was
playing seven hands of Blackjack at a time so she
could have the entire table to herself, and was
losing $5,000 per hour.
In
a single weekend in September 2005, she says, she
lost $150,000 gambling at Resorts. According to the
suit, the casino asked her to sign a waiver of
liability if she wanted to continue gambling there.
She refused, and was barred from the premises.
Taveras spent nearly a year in clinics to treat her
gambling addiction. She filed her lawsuit last
September, representing herself in court, and is now
working at a telephone call center in Minnesota.
Meanwhile, reminders of her problem continue to
arrive in the mail.
Harrah's sent her a letter in December barring her
from all its properties; but a few weeks earlier,
Trump Plaza sent her an invitation to spend New
Year's Eve with them, promising her $50 to gamble
with.
"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."
More information on the negative effects of gambling.
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