“Is that a Jurassic Park pinball machine?” Cecile asks no one in particular as she notices some flashing lights in a darkened corner.
“That, is a Jurassic Park pinball machine,” an auburn-haired woman in an apron responds matter-of-factly as she scrubs down a nearby table with sanitizer. “Got it from an alum; donated it back a few years ago when he moved out of state. Pretty cool. Beat the high score and we’ll prolly give you stuff.”
“Ooo, seriously?” Cecile’s eyes sparkle as she takes in the blinking bulbs and stainless steel tracks of a bygone era dying a little more, year after year. She has no real idea why she’s enamored by it: pinball machines in general were before her time, she was never an arcade-goer or even a video-gamer, and she wouldn’t be able to come to within a third of the high score no matter how many quarters she fed the well-animated Tyrannosaurus. So why does she want to?
The worker nods, though her eyes focus on her work at the table rather then Cecile. “Yeah, I mean, sure, why not? Just, like, a gift certificate prolly, but it pays for itself with all them quarters, you know?”
“No, not really; I never played.”
“No? You should.”