At Borgata, a few Christmas carols were dropped into the normal background music and a giant chocolate Christmas tree was on display.
Caesars went a few steps farther than Borgata. All the ambient music had been replaced with Christmas carols, a giant tree stood in the hotel lobby and statues around the casino had been adorned with Santa hats. The wreaths that had been hung on columns for decoration meshed well with the gold wreaths that are permanently displayed.
In Tropicana, a variety of Christmas displays were set up; each encouraged guests to share their pictures on social media with the hashtag #TropHolidays. The true highlight, however, was the Italian restaurant Il Verdi, which offered a full Feast of the Seven Fishes for $75 per person.
Christmas is a holiday celebrating the promise of salvation and the warmth of family, but what does that mean in Atlantic City, a place built on a reputation of debauchery?
Borgata's massive chocolate Christmas tree on display Christmas Eve. When it comes to holidays, Christmas is about wholesome as it gets. But in Atlantic City, the holiday spirit can be a strange addition to an environment of indulgence.
"[Christmas] is the antithesis, if you will, of the image that Atlantic City has put forward," said Brian Tyrrell, a professor of hospitality and tourism management at Stockton University.
Tyrrell said that family holidays like Christmas are not the same breadwinners for casinos that New Years is. Hotel room availability seemed to back that up; rooms were still available at special rates in Caesars for Christmas Eve and Christmas, while there are no vacancies for New Years Eve.
Yet there were those who decided to spend their holiday playing the odds. The casino floors at Borgata, Caesars and Tropicana on Christmas Day all had action, but were not quite busy.
The hundreds of slot machines in each had plenty of empty seats. High limit rooms were almost entirely empty, and baccarat rooms were generally half full and the players were almost exclusively Asian.
The table games were more of a mixed bag. Gamblers of all ages, genders and races mingled over roulette, blackjack and craps. The tables were generally full, but seats could be found for all games no matter the minimum bets.
No one seemed to be winning a whole lot. If any player was on a hot streak, they kept it to themselves. Absolutely no one seemed happy with the way the money wheel was spinning in Tropicana.
A security guard at Caesars wore reindeer antlers and a few dealers dressed in Christmas sweaters.
Borgota's Racebook was closed for the holiday, but there were plenty of players at the slot machines and the B Bar was still charging $6 for a Miller Lite during the early NFL games on Christmas Eve.
As for Borgota's Christmas tree, it was created by the casino's executive pastry chef Thaddeus DuBois, a former White House chef, using about 1,000 pounds of chocolate.
Outside of the casinos, most shops and restaurants operated on limited holiday hours. Even on the Boardwalk, most storefronts between Caesars and Tropicana were closed by 6:30 p.m. on Christmas Eve, making it a true Silent Night.
The short walk between Caesars and Tropicana around 6:30 p.m. saw a couple dozen people outside, as well as a stray orange cat that was poking around a few trashcans near the Atlantic City Convention Center. And maybe it was just the late hour, the slight rain and the cold, but the beach was totally empty.
None of that deterred the push cart operators, who were still offering rides between casinos at 10 p.m. Christmas Eve, despite the rain.
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Still, there was the true religious spirit of the holiday to be found, if not necessarily in the casinos.
For Catholics both local and visiting, Christmas in Atlantic City starts with midnight Mass at Our Lady Star of the Sea on Atlantic Avenue.
This year's service, led by Father John Thomas, centered on the message that the mere presence of a newborn baby is often enough to unite a room of arguing adults. The service of course focused on the power of the newborn Christ, but speaking after the service Thomas said he hoped the Catholic Church could serve a similar mellowing role amid the redevelopment of Atlantic City.
"We need the light to shine brightly," Thomas said, both of the newly renovated church and the faith that is practiced inside.
Michael Sol Warren may be reached at mwarren@njadvancemedia.com. Follow him on Twitter @MSolDub. Find NJ.com on Facebook.