City of Blinding Lights
I'm in Vegas for two days. I'd tell you that it's a work thing, but then you'd remind me that I work for a church and that the two juxtaposed seem rather incongruous, but it's true. I'm here for a trade show.
For whatever reason, the hotel upgraded my room and I have a 17th floor view of the Strip from my rather large windows and a TV in the bathroom. All pluses, I say. The city at night is very, very bright and shiny - more shiny and less dingy than in my imagination. I've spent a few hours just looking out the window, which is an underrated pastime as far as I'm concerned. Not my kind of town, really, but how can you argue with its unique charm?
There's a casino - a big one, as far as I can tell - in my hotel/small metropolis, and I walked through it today. Not my cup of tea, but fascinating nonetheless. Loud music, no clocks, and fewer midwesterners gambling away the college fund than I'd expected. U2's "City of Blinding Lights" was playing in the casino and I just about swooned. It was just one of those moments. Hard to explain.
For those of you who know what I do for a living and are keeping score at home: 20 services in 12 days. (Up from the usual 16 over 12 days.) I'm a tired man.
posted by Kevlar Pinata @ 11:12 PM
3 comments
3 Comments:
Oh a game! Good. Felicity loves games. What is Kevlar's line?
Let's see....Vegas.....sleep deprived... sensitive to light....a preternatural receptivity to overwrought overated Irish music. I must say that this occupation sounds familar:
Kevlar is the "hospitality" biz! Who would have that Kevlar and Felicity shared this common bond?
Ancient fellows in the oldest profession.
I gotta hand it to you, Kev-o-tone. 20 "services" in 12 days rivals the endurace of your humble contributor, Felicity Taint.
So long as we are kindred spirits, allow Felicity to pass on a few tricks of the trade.
First: U2 is horrible music. I know, I know. After you've given up your safe word, anything is possible. Be advised from one so burned: listening to U2 is the very next circle in "hospitality" hell. Try to avoid this pit fall.
Second: Moist Towelettes! This one is self evident. They are effective, and lemony fresh.
Third: Wax if off, wax it off, wax it off. I say this three times as part of an ancient rite. You are now compelled to do Felicity's bidding.
Fourth: THERE IS NO RESTRAINT
So there I was, 1998 or so, working a trade show in Las Vegas. Staying at the Hilton, the Vegas hotel of the King himself. I'm not much of a gambler. A bad one, to be sure. So I refrained from gambling for nearly the entire trip. I worked the show and ate some great food, and had a generally pretty fun time in Vegas, because it's just so damn weird there. Last night of the show, my friend PR and I decide to do some "gambling", by which I mean to say that he said we were going to burn some of our dollar bills. But I was swayed by the atmosphere and I talked him into going to the lobby casino. We sit at the slots, which are really and literally glorified dollar-takers/change machines that only give change, you know, sometimes, and we start to feed some bills into the machines. Lady with boobs and small pants comes over to us and gives us a free beer. Free! I tell you. I proceed to put no less than $63 into the machines, which just happens to have been the exact amount of money left in my wallet. My friend, as I recall, spent 20 bucks. We walk away after, like 20 minutes. Penniless. But with a free beer! I say, well, that was kinda fun and we got a free beer out of it. He says, well, your beer cost $63, and mine cost 20. I then went to the lobby cash machine so that I could affod to get the airport the next morning, got some cash, and spent a $5 processing fee to do so.
Vegas was fun. I'd go back.
Well done, Felicity. I won't even dare to return the volley.
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