Nobody said the “Super Scooper” game in the waiting room of Bernard Chevrolet in Libertyville was fair.
Right in front of the contraption, in fact, a small typewritten disclaimer warns: “A game of skill. No coins returned.”
Trouble is, according to Libertyville Police Lt. Bruce Scheibler, nobody ever seems to have the skills to win.
After dropping in a quarter, you push buttons to maneuver a yellow, notched-edge scoop over a waiting pile of Tootsie Rolls, Twizzlers, Lemon Heads, Wacky Wafers and Bottle Caps.
“It’s been tried by countless customers-kids, adults and personnel from Bernard Chevrolet-and no one has been able to win,” Scheibler, a part-time employee at the dealership, wrote in a complaint filed with Libertyville police.
Scheibler sought no charges against the machine’s owner, Robert Mann of I & R Enterprises in Buffalo Grove. But he said that he wants the machine adjusted to cough up some candy now and then.
Some customers became so enraged at the game last week that they tilted the machine on its side and shook it, said sales manager Roger Little.
“There was candy all over the place,” he said. The dealership has had the game for about five months.
In the spirit of consumer advocacy, Lake watch tried the game three times. The robotic scoop, ripe with candy-grabbing potency, lowered itself to the goods. But each time, at the crucial moment, the scoop tilted lamely and retracted empty.
Mann promised to look into it.
“I’d much rather give them the candy than have somebody upset about it,” he offered. “But in all honesty, it’s a game of skill and it will not give candy every time.”
Street wise? A two-night crackdown on prostitution this week in downtown Waukegan led to 11 arrests and some curious conversations.
Waukegan Officer Carl Nelson, working undercover, cruised east Monday evening along Water Street and spotted Kelly A. Barrett, 28. She waved him down near Genesee Street and got into Nelson’s car, police reports say.
Barrett reportedly asked Nelson if he was a police officer. Nelson replied, “Yeah.” Barrett repeated the question, reports said. Nelson said, “What did I tell you?”
Undaunted, Barrett then allegedly offered Nelson sex for money. Nelson drove to a pre-arranged stop and signaled backup officers to move in.
As supporting officers strolled up to the car, Barrett turned to Nelson and reportedly quipped: “You’re a cop, aren’t you?”
The following night, Nelson picked up Dianne Jones, 32, in the 200 block of Genesee Street. She was charged with prostitution.
Jones reportedly got into Nelson’s car and told him: “Let’s go before the cops come.”
Once burnt, twice confused: At a lengthy meeting of the Ft. Sheridan Joint Planning Committee last week, confusion reigned as the nine members from local and county government sought the answer to the question: Where do we go from here?
The committee had watched aghast this fall as the feds flushed down the toilet all the committee’s work and recommendations on what to do with Ft. Sheridan, the empty but valuable vestige on the lakefront. Several congressman objected to the development by Equitable Real Estate Management Inc. that the committee had worked out. The legislators balked because other government agencies had not been allowed to take a whack at getting the fort first.
So the chagrin was palpable last Tuesday night at the committee’s meeting, not only at the waste of its time over the last three years, but also at the lack of guidance from the feds.
Carol Wyant, executive director of Landmarks Preservation Council of Illinois, described at length the federal labyrinth she said the committee should navigate as its next move. She offered the council’s help.
But member Robert Buhai, a Lake County Forest Preserve board member from Highland Park, rejected the partnership offer.
Then an Equitable representative, John O’Donnell, stood up to offer hope that a congressional amendment would give local towns more say in how abandoned forts can be developed. But O’Donnell was as short on details as Wyant had been long.
After several other abortive attempts to clarify the mud, an exasperated Rhett Butler, mayor of Lake Forest, asked aloud:
“Who in the hell knows what’s going on?”
When no one did, the committee adjourned, resolving to summon a federal bureaucrat to clarify what the committee’s next move should or could be.
