Never thought “Chuck E. Cheese’s” and “Gambling Addiction” would live in the same sentence—or headline—but this, I believe, is what happens when someone who claims, in court documents, to have taken her children (ages 3 and 5) to Chuck E. Cheese’s numerous—got that? NUMEROUS—times finally wakes up and realizes what a fool she’s been, and subsequently, what to do? Many of us would just lay low for a while by sitting a sort of self-imposed shiva-for-shame (with all due respect for those of the Jewish faith out there)—you know, cancel a few playdates, that sort of thing. Not so Denise Keller. Her way to deal with self-loathing and mortification? Sue the source of it all: Chuck E. Cheese’s of course. So here we are…
The Defendant: Chuck E. Cheese’s restaurants (I use the term loosely—they do serve food).
The Allegations: Some of the games at Chuck E. Cheese’s are actually illegal gambling devices and could foster addictive behavior in children. (At least that’s what Denise Keller, a mom and local real estate agent from San Diego, who’s sued CEC Entertainment—owners of Chuck E. Cheese’s—thinks.)
The Questions: As a mom—and one who’s been to a Chuck E. Cheese’s birthday party or two—I have some questions about this lawsuit. Particularly if I’m going to need to line up some psych assessments for my kids in about fifteen years—was Chuck E. Cheese’s the root of all evil in their lives?
See, it’s not like there’s been a causal relationship established between Chuck E. Cheese’s and gambling compulsion—like with Mirapex. And even though I was not a proponent of the Kill the Happy Meal lawsuit, I get it. There’s real harm if a lax parent feeds a child a steady diet of Happy Meals. So I’ve got some serious questions—8 of ’em for Ms. Keller regarding this lawsuit. Here they are:
1. How often do you take your kid to Chuck E. Cheese’s?
Please define “numerous”. My kids have gotten several birthday invitations for parties there. We’ve gone to two. One would’ve been enough. And for damn sure it wouldn’t have been because Read the rest of this entry »
Last week we posted a settlement of a lawsuit against Loto-Québec, for an undisclosed sum of money—but it will reportedly be in the multi-million dollar range—somewhere between $50 million and $700 million—quite a spread by anybody’s standards. But I’m betting it won’t turn out to be chicken feed.
The lawsuit was brought against the provincial lottery agency by compulsive gamblers who allege that video lottery terminals—or VLTs—are associated with pathological gambling. The plaintiffs are seeking the cost of their addiction treatments, among other things, at an estimated average cost per person of $5000. And there are an estimated 119,000 plaintiffs. My calculator tells me that’s equal to $595,000,000—that’s a lot of dough—although the final sum will likely be less than that.
But if you look a little deeper—you start to wonder who actually comes out ahead in all of this. Ironically, it could well be the lottery corporation. Loto-Québec CEO, Alain Cousineau, told the Montreal Gazette recently (1/20/10), that Canadians spent an estimated $675 million just on online gambling in 2008, and revenues are expected to exceed $1 billion in 2012. So, what’s the problem with spending a little on addiction therapy for those people who just can’t help themselves? And let’s be clear here—gambling is an addiction—and as such, you could argue, a guaranteed source of income for the corporations that operate the lotteries. (Wouldn’t that qualify as unfair business practices? Tobacco companies can’t get away with that kind of thing, apparently.)
But the plaintiffs have also won, even if they don’t succeed at addiction treatment—because they’ve set a precedent. Similar cases are pending in Nova Scotia, Newfoundland and Ontario, so what happens in the Lotto-Quebec case matters—big time.
The losers, if there are any, are those of us who buy our weekly lottery tickets in the hope of winning our retirement and never win a nickel—but we keep on trying. Does that count as addiction? Or is it the definition of madness—repeating the same action over and over again, each time hoping for a different outcome…
At the end of the day, if you asked me where I’d put my money going forward, it would be on the lottery corporations—because they will come out ahead—just like Vegas—you can’t beat the house. But maybe, just maybe, this lawsuit has helped redefine some of the rules.