If you want to play in a brick-and-mortar casino, though, you’ll have to work around Seattle’s 80-year gambling prohibition. To accommodate the gambling boom, two new mini-casinos have opened their doors in the past three years. That makes seven in the five-mile stretch of Aurora beginning at the Seattle-Shoreline border.

Down the road from The Drift, at the Red Dragon in Mountlake Terrace, a man bristles with anger. His big pocket pair has just been sucked out on, or in laymen’s terms, beaten late in the hand by a much weaker starting hand. He slams his fist against the fresh felt.

“You played ten six off suit?” he cries in disbelief, staring at his opponent with disgust.

Without looking up, the winner stacks the chips from the pot. It isn’t immediately clear whether he’s ignoring the insult, or whether the headphones in his ear are preventing him from hearing.

If The Drift resembles an old-school poker game among friends, the Dragon’s games are a jumble of strangers with little sense of community. The players scowl at their hole cards, lengthily debating whether to check or fold; they build elaborate structures with their chips; they berate one another for lousy play. The only bald heads here have been shaved fashionably. Headphones dangle from players’ ears. Sunglasses shield their eyes. There are even a few women here. The Dragon opened in 2004 at the height of the Poker Boom, and it’s clear that they draw an entirely different kind of gambler.

Ironically, the game of choice for this brash new breed of poker player is a $3-6 limit game, the lowest stakes casino poker you can find on the Aurora strip and the only game the Dragon offers. As one dealer told me, “It’s entertainment poker. You don’t make a living at 3-6. You come in and try not to lose too much money.”

Scott Hildebrandt, the director of operations for the Red Dragon, acknowledges that the poker room draws a large number of local twenty-somethings. But he insists that the Dragon is a “multi-use destination.” Sounding heavily caffeinated in a phone interview, Hildebrandt corrects my use of “gambling” in favor of “gaming,” and boasts about how the Red Dragon has increased its profits each year. Judging from his polished corporate demeanor, I wonder briefly whether he’s ever actually been inside the casino.

If the Drift On Inn is Aurora’s past, then the Red Dragon represents Aurora’s future. Exemplifying the upscale and family-friendly demeanor that many gaming establishments now strive for, visitors are greeted by attractively potted plants, fountains with pennies, and giant dragon streamers suspended from two-story high columns. Stone statues of lions guard the door like the entrance to a theme park. Everything is painted the same blood-red color, from the building’s exterior to the columns and chairs. Weezer’s “Beverly Hills” resounds from the speakers.

An outdoor patio, with a scenic view of Funtasia Gamepark and 220th street, extends out from the bar, which carries nine beers on tap, including Heineken and Red Hook ESB.

Back at The Drift a displeased-looking man and his wife sip a vodka grapefruit at the bar as they watch the horses run. The Drift is the only Aurora mini-casino that has an off-track betting license, which permits them to take bets on horse races they broadcast on television.

Tim, the Asian man from the poker table, wanders back to watch the horse race.

“The twelve horse done lay down on me again,” the man at the bar says over his shoulder. “I told you that before. You’re a goddamn jinx, Tim.”

“Be nicer to people,” the woman interrupts. “You gotta be nice to strangers.”

“Screw a stranger,” he replies loudly. “Screw a stranger, and the horse they rode in on!”

Tim smiles sheepishly as he ambles the 20 feet back to the poker table.

“Deal me in,” he says to the dealer. “These guys, they play too tight. Can’t win no money that way.”