Craps, Careers, and Cold Streaks
The job market these days can feel like a gamble. Wanna bet?
I’ve written a lot about gambling — a novel set in Las Vegas about casino workers and an unclaimed jackpot, a screenplay about Off-Track Betting regulars teaming up to hit a Pick-6. And while I’ve logged plenty of hours at the craps tables, racetracks, and OTBs, I’m not what you’d call a high-stakes gambler.
What draws me in isn’t the thrill of risk. It’s the metaphor. Gambling is how we live: make your best moves, tilt the odds your way, and hope Lady Luck gives you a wink when it counts.
That metaphor’s been hitting close to home lately, as I, like so many others, try to pivot after years of steady work in a familiar lane.
Strangely, it reminded me of a recent trip to Las Vegas. I used to go often, and my game was always craps. But after many years away, I was back in Sin City, trying to find my rhythm again. Stepping up to the table felt familiar but strange… like diving back into the job market. You just hope you still remember how to play.
Not long ago, you could find a $5 table, spread your bets, work the true odds, and maybe stack a few chips before calling it a night.
These days? Forget it. Most tables start at $25. I tried shooting those pricey dice, but one cold streak early on, and boom — my stake was gone.
For the not-so-high-roller, the only affordable option is the craps machines — computerized versions where you sit at terminals around a giant console. You tap your screen and “roll” with the push of a button. No dice in your hand. No stickman. You can’t see who else is playing. No shared groans, no high-fives. Technically the same game, but stripped of its soul.
Still, I gave it a shot. And you know what? I adjusted. Figured out a system. Made back what I lost and even came out a little bit ahead. It wasn’t as fun, but it got the job done.
Kind of like… this job search.
I used to land work through real conversations — meetings, mutual connections, a sense of being seen. Now it’s a different game: applicant tracking systems, resume parsing, buzzword bingo. Even when someone does know you, they still have to run your name through the same joyless pipeline as everyone else. It’s cold, slow, and emotionally expensive.
But Vegas reminded me: when the rules change, you don’t fold. You learn to play a different game. Landing meaningful creative work now means navigating the new system. Tap the right buttons. Bet on yourself in smaller, steady ways.
And in this game, persistence beats the house.
🎲 How have you adapted to a job market that feels more like a casino floor than a career ladder?