10 Days in a Genial Hell

A series of observations, ruminations, and generalizations from Las Vegas

French women have the prettiest clothes. French men also have pretty clothes, and appear to be competing with their women, rather than complementing them.

The homeless man singing along with the aria out front of the Bellagio’s dancing fountains? Yeah…there’s a story there.

The Luxor and the Excalibur casinos are apparently reserved for the trailer trash Mullet heads that are tired of Gatlinburg.

Italian women have the most self-assurance. Italian men are friendly, but they’re also too laid back about everything.

Used to be that Vegas was known for cheap food…not so much, anymore. Not only is it expensive, it’s tasteless. On the other hand, it takes real talent to blend the flavors of filet mignon, asparagus tips, sautéed mushrooms, shallots, and red wine so that they completely cancel each other out. That kind of chef doesn’t come cheap, I suppose.

New York New York is a great place to shop, and the walkway between there and the MGM is the best place to take pictures of the strip.

Mexican women seem to go from stunning young nightclub-fantasy chica to squat peasant grandmother without passing through any intermediate stage. Mexican men all strut around like bantam roosters. Even the short ones. Especially the short ones.

I understand that casinos want you to stay as long as possible, but hiding the exits only pisses me off. I’m not interested in your slot machines or your poker rooms; all I want is the most direct route from the monorail platform to your front door. The show I’m going to see is in the hotel across the street. You want me to stay? Maybe you shouldn’t have Carrot Top as your headliner.

The Wynn, the Paris, and the Venetian are all beautiful hotels. Easily my favorites. Good clubs, good shows, good food.

German women are either very cold, or very gregarious. German men are cocky assholes with really bad taste in clothes.

In general, Vegas is a city filled with those desperate to impress, or desperate to be impressed. It amused me that there were cruisers along the strip on Friday and Saturday nights. It doesn’t matter how shiny the rims are on your Eclipse, you’re not going to get noticed. It just won’t happen.

The Sirens show at Treasure Island is the best of the free shows. Pirate chicks and pyrotechnics – life is good.

Oriental women are generally beautiful, but only as long as they’re quiet. For whatever reason, those dialects are incredibly jarring to me. Oriental men usually look lost, verging on overwhelmed.

It tickled me that the Legends show lineup included Bette Midler, Prince, Tom Jones, and Elton John, since all of those actual people are appearing in Vegas.

I saw the Stomp Out Loud show at the Planet Hollywood hotel. As I looked over the audience, there was a lot less sympathetic jamming than I would have expected. Seeing as it takes at least rudimentary rhythm to procreate, how have white people managed to be the majority so long?

Americans may be derided by the rest of the world for our excessiveness, but I didn’t see any ads for the strip clubs and escort services that featured anything but American girls. We may not recycle as much as France thinks we should, but we own the field when it comes to pole dancing. American men tend to be drunk, loud, and obnoxious at the clubs featuring the American women.

I was stunned by the number of people I saw in the casinos with children. Who the hell brings their 8-year-old daughter to Vegas? Is she going to read the free escort guides while you’re gambling away the house payment? Fucking idiots.

The Frontier had a great big marquee out front reading “Free Paris!” Since they are located about two blocks from the Hilton, I thought it was hysterical.

Everyone should go to Las Vegas once. For about four days. Anything longer is excessive and depressing. See a couple of shows, do some shopping, gamble a little if that’s your thing, then get the hell out. But do your homework. If you don’t have at least a general idea of what you want to do when, the town will mug you. It dazzles you with false choices, distracts you with painted smiles, and slowly suffocates you while you’re convinced you’re having fun.