There was a line at the slot machine in my local gas station.
An actual line. People waiting their turn to gamble.
I couldn't believe it.
Not because they were gambling. I respect these guys. I just couldn't understand why anyone would wait in line for a max win of ten thousand dollars.
That's one and a half used cars these days.
Not exactly escape velocity.
In Georgia, these aren't even technically slot machines. They're amusement machines. You put real money in, but you can't cash out. But I learned the rules changed in July. Now you can win reloadable gift cards.
I started having a little more respect for the operation.
As soon as I left, I checked my phone.
Polymarket had been hacked. Reports said Binance had been hacked and drained too.
Meanwhile, I was tens of thousands of dollars down on my coins.
More than the entire jackpot I'd just been looking down on.
I'd spent the afternoon convincing myself that Sam Altman should have a five-hundred-billion-dollar asset, and that Worldcoin might be it.
And it got cheaper today.
I considered this a reasonably sophisticated investment thesis.
Suddenly, the gas station elders were starting to look like sages.
I'd spent years convincing myself the future of finance was somewhere on the blockchain. These guys had found theirs next to the energy drinks.
Their machine has cherries. Mine has candlesticks. They get gift cards. I get tokens.
The only difference is that my casino occasionally gets hacked, and theirs sells cigarettes.
I'm starting to think these guys understand the Jackpot Age better than I do.
I had the nerve to look down on ten thousand dollars.
Fuck it. I should've gotten in line.