Call girls and other such ladies of the Vegas Strip seem overwhelmingly to favor Trojan condoms. Perhaps there's fertile ground for an endorsement deal here. Like the "four out of five" dentists thing. There was some consternation when our in-house liquor store ran out of them the weekend of a massive adult-video convention.
I swear that, one of these days, I'm finally going to crack and ask one of these young ladies "How's tricks?" I may not be able to control myself much longer.
On a related note, in Vegas it's almost impossible to tell who is and who is not a hooker just by looking. They all dress alike, in prostitute chic. Even the hookers, though, wear more in public than do some of those female adult-video conference attendees.
The hundreds of thousands of NASCAR fans who showed up here for the big race this weekend not only sported more teeth than many would suppose but brought with them a spike in the proportion of magnificent babes in a city already overladen with such. Daisy Duke lives.
On the subject of NASCAR fans (this also applies to the new breed of Harley riders, the corporate-logo kind), many of the men seem to go to great lengths to look exactly like this, the dude on the right:
I mean, these men look
exactly like him. I've thus far suppressed the urge to inform any of these gentlemen that they look just like one of the Village people:
Macho is just so fabulous, isn't it?
Judging by the tee-shirts, and every other conceivable item branded by the Harley Davidson marketing people, one out of every one Americans rides a Hardly Ableson. The actual number, though, is far short of that. Ditto the various West Coast choppers, Orange County Choppers, etc -- if their bike sales matched even a fraction of their T-shirt sales we'd be knee deep in impractical works of two-wheeled art. And here we must consider that 95% of the Harleys ever made are still on the road -- the other 5% made it home.
Speaking of which, when a coworker asks you why you ride a Japanese sport bike rather than a "real" bike, a Harley, the correct answer is "because I want a bike that actually works." "I prefer a bike that doesn't sport a Soviet tractor engine" would be good, too, but I didn't think of that 'til now. They deserve no less for their rude question, and far more because the premise of their question is a joke that they don't even know the punchline to. Extra points if, as is usually the case, aforementioned f***wit not only does not own a Harley but has never ridden a motorcycle of any kind.
Here's hoping that the idiots aboard a Montana-licensed Harley that made a nuisance of themselves on the Strip a couple of days ago -- an Oakley-sporting outlaw wannabe and his ('skanky' is the word, I believe) "old lady" (who didn't even lift her top for me, dammit) -- were apprehended before they reached the bottom of that storied boulevard because they were too dense to realize that Nevada has a helmet law.
Don't touch the cocktail waitresses. One drunken fool made his play on New Years Eve and had security personnel (not your neighborhood security guard...most are ex-police or ex-military and still quite capable) all over him in a flash. Worse, the head of security called his wife -- ensconced in their hotel room while her husband was downstairs -- and told her not only that they were evicted but just
why they were being thrown out. Harsh. But, I think, deserved.
In dreams, I fondle cocktail waitresses. Actually, some casinos officially name them "beverage models," a title that I imagine allows them to set arbitrary standards of "beauty" and not be sued for it.
A lot of people here, those who worked in Vegas at any time before the mid '80s, pine for the days when the Mafia ran the place. They treated their employees and guests better than do most of today's corporate types and you knew where you were with them. On the flipside, you might find yourself having your legs broken (or fingers cut off) in a back room, or just shot dead in a hole in the desert, but you knew the rules and that kind of thing only happened to people who willingly broke those rules. The movie
Casino is, apparently, devastatingly accurate.
By the way, word from those same people is that the Mafia is still very much involved in Vegas but just not as overtly -- they're hidden way behind some of those corporations but they're still there to some degree. Not really a big surprise.
Celine Dion is an absolute bitch. Seems the consensus here, anyway, among he employees of the Vegas Strip.
On the other hand, Steve Wynn (the self-made man who turned the Strip around, starting with opening the Mirage) is not only a nice guy in person but is the best employer in Vegas. He makes a point of treating his employees better than he treats his guests, whereas the illogical use of negative reinforcement still reigns supreme in employee-management relations and policy at other Vegas properties, as it does elsewhere in corporate Amerika. Just about everyone who works in the hospitality and gaming industries in Vegas applied when Wynn opened appications for jobs at his signature resort (opening April 28).
That egomaniacal doofus, Trump, is putting the latest monument to his ego smack across from Wynn Las Vegas. If it's some kind of challenge, I hope Steve shows this upstart East Coast bigwig ("badwig," maybe) that he's not ready for Vegas. In reality, the two properties probably won't compete in any significant way, but I can't help but think that Trump -- who's apparently wanted in on Vegas for a long time -- is sending Steve Wynn a message. Hey, you're not
The Donald out here...you're just some red-faced bazillionaire named Don. You'll fit right in.
Tourists are stupid cattle. Well, that's kind of a generalization, but it helps if you see things from my perspective: some people are 'travelers' and others are 'tourists.' And talk about herd mentality. Many Americans, of course, are particularly adept at being bovine-like as tourists, having a head-start already, but they're not alone in that. And many of us have had the misfortune of seeing prime examples of the Ugly American abroad...but those pigs also stand out in their own country and one of the surprises to me is that most of the visitors I've met in Vegas have been pretty decent or very nice. Also, of course, the same ugly archetype is present elsewhere: certain kinds of British tourists, for example, are loathed in places like Greece and Spain, German tourists can be almost as local-unfriendly in some places, and Australians are dreaded through the Asia-Pacific region and (at least the traveling packs of Ocker males who treat traveling as one giant pub crawl) further afield.
A spin-off from the above: why do people stand in stupid places, as if they were intentionally blocking thoroughfares? And would it kill them to look before they begin walking in some random direction? I don't hate them -- I like cows, too -- but they make me wonder.
Tagalog isn't a language. I mean...come on. They're just making it up, sort of like Andy Kaufman as Latka on
Taxi. Seriously: I swear one of my Filipina coworkers said "ibbi da" to another. They're making it up just to get back at Americans for the US' imperial meddling in their home nation's affairs. Bastards. (insert smiley here, if needed)
Boom taga-log-a log-a...boom taga-log-a log-a...
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