I am inside what seems like the heart of a giant, spinning Christmas tree. I am surrounded by pulsating lights, flashing stars and bright, pounding multi-colored neon -- a cavalcade of reds and blues and yellows bouncing off hundreds of ceiling high mirrors. Movement is constant and blurred. It is sound that dominates the moving room -- a monotony of organ-grinding music, intermittent clinking of coins and muffled, excited conversation. It's 7:00 in the morning and I'm nursing my second Budweiser of the day. I'm waiting for a guy named Steve...