Ohio legislators need to take a field trip to an Internet cafe.
Hands-on experience will be worth a lot more than any lobbyist's words in helping them craft legislation that regulates or prohibits these entertainment venues.
At the moment, our lawmakers are trying to figure out if Internet cafes are equal to unchecked casinos – and therefore would be illegal – or if they are nothing more than sweepstakes amusement akin to a promotional scratch-off ticket game at McDonald's.
I guarantee lawmakers will find a few answers, as well as some free cold pizza and dry cookies.
I took my field trip last week to Westlake's Infinity Cafe. Its owner bills the place, one of three that share the name, as Cleveland's first upscale sweepstakes cafe. In this world, upscale means a storefront business not wedged between a nail salon and convenient store in a dingy looking strip mall.
Infinity, at the corner of Center Ridge and Canterbury roads, sits in a well-maintained storefront that shares space with the owners' bar, Time Warp. The windows offer a universal greeting: large green dollar signs.
Inside, the first thing I noticed was the carpet, which features poker machines and playing cards. For being a part of an industry that insists its venues have nothing to do with gambling, this cafe sure screams gambling.
The room was filled with about 50 booths – a computer in each – that reminded me of college library study carrels. To sit in the booth, I had to buy Internet time at 25 cents per minute (That's about the cost of college these days.) I purchased $30 worth of time, which transferred to a plastic swipe card along with 3000 sweepstakes points to play games on the computer.
One of about 20 people inside, I grabbed booth 29 in the middle of the room. While I had the option of launching an Internet browser, and perhaps reading the New York Times, I chose to load a program that looked a lot like a slot machine with spinning sevens and cherries and bonus bars.
I was focused not on time but on my sweepstakes points, which ebbed and flowed and were conveniently tabulated in corner of my screen. I was so consumed with landing bonus bars or double diamonds that I didn't much notice the piped-in mellow sounds of Bruce Hornsby or the cheesy canvas paintings of Michael Jackson and others on the walls.
I took a break to get a free drink from a self-serve soda machine. I passed on the boxed pizza and store-bought cookies.
When I returned to my seat, I overheard a guy near me grumble that his computer was tight, a reference to slot machines that don't seem to be paying out.
"I went through $60 and have not hit a bonus," he told an older couple that had just come in to play.
By comparison, my computer must have been loose. On my last spin, or click, I won 3,700 points.
I cashed out for $37.
Roy Frankhauser, who represents the Internet Sweepstakes Association of Ohio, told me a few days later that I was not actually playing a game. He explained that I had only used computer graphics that looked like a slot machine to "reveal" my prize.
George Orwell would have loved that kind of thinking.
"A customer is not risking anything," he said. "He is buying a product."
Frankhauser is technically correct in that the software programs are not games of chance. Computers and software programs had predetermined my fate. I had no ability to change my likelihood of winning.
But isn't that how slot machines work? They rely on sophisticated codes and programming to determine winners and losers. I have as much control over a casino slot machine – none – as I do with an Internet cafe terminal.
I know industry insiders could spend days arguing how Internet cafe sweepstakes software differs from casino slot machine computer code and winning probability. But, in the end, the playing experience – and the psychology of clicking and placing bets – is identical.
That's why casino operators are trying to crush Internet cafes. The cafe experience – and rush of that comes from winning -- is attracting their customers.
I also learned a thing or two on my field trip that doesn't square with what Ohio Attorney General Mike DeWine and other law enforcement officials have been saying – that cafes are dens of crime.
The biggest threats I encountered at Infinity's storefront were choking on heavy perfume and tripping on large, old-lady handbags.
Law enforcement officials believe some caf s engage in money laundering and worse.
I have no idea what goes on in the back of the house. But it's clear that the front of the house looks and acts like any other casino and deserves to be regulated like one.
But the law's pretty clear. Gambling is prohibited in Ohio except for exceptions approved by voters. So lawmakers should shut down the cafes until Ohio citizens vote to expand gambling beyond the lottery and the casinos.
I think lawmakers would reach the same conclusion if they did any research. And the first thing they should do is get out -- and buy themselves some time.
Follow me on Twitter: @marknaymik You can reach me at mnaymik@plaind.com, or at 216-999-4849.