Because it is attached to a functioning arcade (Nickelmania), the museum doesn't feel "sacred." Teenagers will run past a 1915 Mutoscope to play Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles . That could annoy a purist, but it actually makes the place feel alive. History isn't roped off; it's just the weird corner of the party.
Walking in is like falling into a time machine built by a clockmaker with a gambling problem. The air smells of ozone, old wood, and popcorn. The lights are low, but the ding-ding-ding of mechanical reels is deafening. Unlike the dark, chaotic rhythm of a 1980s arcade, this place has the frantic, percussive energy of a thousand pocket watches all going off at once. international arcade museum
Just don't try to cash out your winnings. They pay in tootsie rolls. Because it is attached to a functioning arcade
Housed inside the massive, neon-lit cavern of (a retro arcade open to the public), the IAM isn’t a sterile collection of glass cases. It is a living , breathing archive of coin-op entertainment. You aren't looking at a 1910 Caille "Jockey Club" slot machine; you are pulling its lever to see if three horses line up. Walking in is like falling into a time
Most arcade museums celebrate video games (Pac-Man, Donkey Kong). The IAM celebrates coin games. There are no screens here (until you get to the 1970s section). The genius of this place is that it forces you to confront gambling as a mechanical art form. You see a 1907 Mills "Liberty Bell" and realize it is a mathematical trap made of brass and cherry paint. It is beautiful. It is also designed to rob you.
The Premise: Most museums tell you not to touch the exhibits. The International Arcade Museum (IAM) hands you a roll of nickels and says, "Go break history."