Jonathan Meyer.

At times, I feel like I’m a guy with a bit of an older soul. Some of my habits in and around the casino only make me believe that a little more. To set the stage, last week I was getting ready to move back to college for my senior year. After spending a little too much time packing boxes, moving chairs, and wrestling with recliners, I decided I needed a different kind of stimulation.

One of the beautiful things I never quite realized growing up is that not everyone lives five minutes away from a casino.

I can remember plenty of times as a kid when my family would wind up there for a delicious buffet meal, or when older relatives would stop by for a visit. Apparently, having a casino practically in your backyard is not a universal childhood experience. Who knew?

Once I turned 21 last year, I finally had the opportunity to actually gamble. I didn’t gravitate toward the card tables. I didn’t head for blackjack or roulette. Nope. I went straight to the back and found the penny slots.

I don’t particularly enjoy risking much of my money. In fact, I have developed my own method for determining whether a trip to the casino is financially responsible: I factor in how much free pop I can drink from the fountain.

Between every dollar or two spent on a penny machine, I make my way back over and try a different pop. Usually, I start with root beer and work my way up to Mountain Dew. Occasionally, I’ll even sample the coffee. You have to diversify your portfolio.

Last week, I decided I was going to be a bit of a high-stakes player and put a whole five-dollar bill into a machine. Big spender.

After staying pretty even around that $5 mark on a few different machines, I wandered over to a part of the casino floor that was conveniently located between two very important places: the pop machine and the bathroom. Location matters!

Something about one machine, the screen, the lovely noises, maybe the flashing lights, it all compelled me to sit down.

At about the same time, I remembered I had asked my mom if she wanted to get lunch. We had been going back and forth about what we wanted and where we should go, and I figured it was probably time for me to leave. So I decided to cut my losses.

Or, more accurately, I decided to hit the max-bet button a few times and see what happened.

I had never really done that before. My normal gambling philosophy is that if I’m going to lose money, I’d at least like to lose it very, very slowly. But this time turned out differently.

On what was going to be my final spin (thankfully it actually was my final spin) I hit max bet one more time. That’s when the dinging started.

Dings, rings, blings, chirps, flashing lights. Every noise imaginable started coming out of this damn machine. Somehow, I had turned a little more than a $1 bet into $35.

It’s safe to say lunch was taken care of.

As soon as the machine finished ringing up my winnings, I promptly printed my ticket, collected my cash and got the heck out of there.

I wouldn’t call myself much of a risk-taker, and I certainly know when to walk away. Maybe that’s why $35 remains my biggest win during my two or three trips a year to play penny slots and consume as much free soda as my body will reasonably allow.

But come on, if you really think about it, have you seen the price of a two-liter of pop lately?

If I can drink anywhere close to that price for free while also potentially making money, I’m not sure this can even be classified as gambling anymore. That sounds like an investment to me.

I’m perfectly content keeping my stakes low, my cup of pop full, and apparently my lifetime jackpot record at a whopping $35.

Until my next free cup, I’m Just Jonathan.