What follows are snapshots of Las Vegas. They are all true.
Sin City Diary: Tonight in Las Vegas, tourists will pay hard-earned money just to hang out in an ultra lounge with a random reality TV star. A year from now, they’ll be able to hang out with him for free at his Applebee’s server gig.
Sin City Diaries. 11:08pm. A conventioneer from Green Bay is getting into a limo that will take him and his friend out to one of Nevada’s legal brothels. As he puts it, “Don’t think of it as “hiring a prostitute.” Think of it as “outsourcing your relationship.”
Sin City Diary. 12:22AM. As she provided ultra-lounge bottle service to the group of guys who would not stop hitting on her, the hot Vietnamese girl wondered if they would still grab her butt if they knew she had once been a hot Vietnamese boy.
Sin City Diary. 1:06pm. They stand in the pool, packed in like Tokyo subway riders. They are there because TV tells them that’s the cool place to be. Douchebag soup.
Sin City Diary. 10:30pm. The couple from Boston is on their way out of a Cirque show. They enjoyed it so much, they’re buying a program so they can find out what the hell it was supposed to be about.
Sin City Diaries. 7:02pm. He’d stood there for hours, robotically dealing cards. To make his day a little more interesting, he would occasionally deal from the bottom, not that it mattered. It was only ad cards for hookers.
Sin City Diary. 11am. Las Vegas’ newest resort/casino has been announced. Named “HELL”, it caters to age 21-and-over ONLY. The casino is named “Greed”, the buffet is “Gluttony”, the ultra-lounge is “Lust”, the hotel is “Sloth”, the pool is “Envy”, the VIP lounge is “Pride”, and the front desk is “Wrath”.Valet is called “Purgatory”. The resort has a billboard up at the airport which reads, “Welcome to Las Vegas. Now, go straight to HELL”.
Sin City Diaries. 7:02pm. He’d stood there for hours, robotically dealing cards. To make his day a little more interesting, he would occasionally deal from the bottom, not that it mattered. It was only ad cards for hookers.
Sin City Diaries. 12:08am. The casino put the non-smoking blackjack table directly between two smoking blackjack tables. The cowboy who is sitting down to play thinks that’s a lot like having a swimming pool with a no-peeing “section”.
Sin City Diaries, 6:09pm. An aging ex-heavyweight champion is walking slowly across the casino floor with a friend. Time and disease have robbed him of his legendary grace, but not the sharpness of his mind. As he passes, even hardcore gamblers stop and simply applaud. Reaching the elevator, he turns to his friend and says, “If people would only love each other the way they love me…”
Sin City Diaries. 1:31am. A male dancer in a huge production show brought the woman he met tonight up to his rustic cabin on Mt. Charleston. He thought it would be romantic to sweep her up in his arms and toss her onto his waterbed. He’s forgotten that it’s the dead of Winter in the mountains, and his cabin has no electricity. The waterbed is frozen. It’s OK. She’ll regain consciousness in 5 minutes or so.
Sin City Diaries. 10:03pm. The young construction worker from Cleveland is praying that his future Mother-in-Law did NOT hear him just call the Bellagio fountain show, “The ultimate money shot.”
+Sin City Diaries. 11:10pm. The actor from Indiana held in his hands a 1691 Second Quarto “Julius Caesar” by William Shakespeare. As he read Mark Antony’s funeral oration, (page 37,) he wished he had the $40,000.00 necessary to purchase the treasure. He would content himself with having held it, breathed it in, and spoken the timeless words aloud; as direct a connection to the Bard as he was likely ever to get.
+Sin City at Midnight. Girls in tiny dresses are waiting to get into ultra lounges where guys hoping to get laid will spend $400 for a bottle of Grey Goose and the right to sit on a couch. Who says the American Dream is dead?
Sin City Diaries. 10:57pm. A Devil Worshipper handing out literature on Fremont Street just swore “to God” that he was really a Satanist. It must be his first night.
+Sin City Diaries. November 20th, 12:10pm. Upon the announcement that his beloved Flamingo Hotel would host the “World Series Of Beer Pong,” Bugsy Siegel rose from his grave and shot himself in his other eye.
Sin City Diaries. 10:00am. A college student on his way to his senior year in in California bet his tuition on red. Goodbye UCLA, hello Harper Community College!
+Sin City Diaries. 9:42am. The caretaker of the estate owned by a Middle Eastern royal family is wondering for the zillionth time why, in all the years they have owned the property, no one has ever stayed there.
+Sin City, 12:25am. A homeless guy just caged a total of $10 off tourists on Fremont Street. He’s heading into Mermaid’s for a deep-fried Twinkie and a beer. Whatever cash is left over will go into a progressive jackpot slot machine. If it doesn’t hit, he’ll sleep tonight in Woodlawn Cemetery and hope for better luck tomorrow.
Sin City Diaries. 10:02pm. A Strip hotel valet is parking the Bentley of the guy who laid him off last month in order to hire a less expensive recent college grad. He’s sitting behind the wheel and considering the possibilities.
+Sin City Diaries. 12:47pm. On the far outskirts of Las Vegas, a construction crew is breaking ground on a new subdivision. They are digging new holes in the desert, and are finding old holes in the desert. The foreman is dialing 911.
+Sin City, 3am. A suite the Venetian. The girl in the rabbit suit got too drunk while waiting for Paris Hilton to show up at the party. She stripped off the rabbit suit and was about to get gang-banged by a bunch of even drunker Oompa Loompas. Security grabbed her and is hustling her out the back door of the suite before Paris gets there and sees what’s going on.
+Sin City, 3:30am. A guest room in a major Strip hotel. Five minutes ago, a guy shot and killed another guy for offenses real or imagined. It won’t make the news because it just doesn’t, you understand? It. Just. Doesn’t.
+Sin City. 7:52pm. A 1970’s Pop Icon is walking through the back hallways of the casino. As required by his contract, every hotel staff member he encounters does not acknowledge him, or even look at him. What he doesn’t realize is, they probably would behave that way anyway. Most of them are recent immigrants who have no idea who he is. They think of him as “Song Man.”
Sin City. 12:48pm. Two 30-something women from Vancouver are laying by the pool at Mandalay, thinking that “Partying like a Rock Star, WOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOO!” last night might not have been the best way to start their vacation. (Tonight, they’ll find out the hard way they didn’t use enough sunscreen…)
+Sin City, 2pm. He just lost all their vacation money at a blackjack table while she was gathering information about shows she wants to see. They haven’t even checked into the hotel yet.
+Sin City, 4:22pm in a small, off-Strip retail store. A crook dressed as a fire-extinguisher serviceman just conned his way behind the sales counter, ostensibly to “examine the fire-extinguisher.” In reality, he’s writing down the make and model number of the safe so his buddies will know what they’ll be breaking into when they rob the place tomorrow.
Sin City, 12:22am. A hotel security guard is nursing a fat lip from a drunken tourist who deliberately headbutted him, despite the fact that he was just trying to help the bastard find his room. He’s taking solace in knowing that the guy also teed off on Metro when they came to arrest him, and Metro don’t play that. He’s wondering how many flights of stairs the guy “fell down” on the way to being booked.
Sin City, 3pm. A US Senator from Nevada is taking a sex break with one of his very married staffers. He’s thinking about increasing her salary. And her husband’s. And her son’s. She’s clearly doing a GREAT job.
Sin City Diaries. 7:45pm. An aging performer is making his return to a Las Vegas showroom. His contract calls for a security escort from the limo to his dressing room. Security is tasked with keeping overly-zealous fans away. That won’t be a problem.
+Sin City Diaries. 5pm. A couple in the their 70’s just got married onstage in a showroom by a comedian. While his ordination is technically legal, he’s not really much of a Minister. In fact, he misspelled “Reverend” on their marriage certificate. They couldn’t care less. They are ecstatic over starting their new life together.
+Sin City Diaries. 7pm. A Strip-headlining magician walked past a mirror without stopping to admire himself. Realizing his missed opportunity, he re-traced his steps and corrected his error.
+Sin City Diaries, 11pm. A tourist from Wisconsin is having a great roll at the dice table. Even better, he’s pretty sure he’s going to get lucky with the attractive young woman who is standing next to him, squealing and clapping at his good fortune. Each time he wins a hand, she taps his stack of $100 chips with the bottom of her beer bottle for “luck”. He thinks it’s adorable. He also likes the fact that she presses her enormous boobs against him when she taps. He doesn’t realize the bottle has sticky-putty on it, and she’s been stealing $100 with each tap. He’s up $9k. She’s up $800. Not bad for 20 minutes’ work.
Sin City Diaries. 7:45pm. The opening act introduced himself to the headlining comedian, and held out his hand to shake. Mr. Headliner…you know, that guy with the TV show…offered only his little pinkie for the handshake. The opening act is quietly hoping he doesn’t become that much of a douchebag when he gets famous.
Sin City Diaries, 11:58am. The hardworking marketing team for Luxor is about to take lunch following a grueling morning of working to convince tourists it’s a great idea to vacation at a property that is modeled after an enormous tomb.
Sin City Diaries. 1:22pm. A 33-year-old physics professor from Vancouver is stepping off the plane. She’s been working out religiously for the past year. Her body is lean and fit. Her divorce is final. She’s here to celebrate, and is hoping Sin City lives up to it’s reputation.
+Sin City Diaries. 8pm. A woman is in line at 7/11 and is getting frustrated by the clerk’s slowness in completing the transaction of the patron in front of her. She’s unaware that the patron is robbing the store at gunpoint.
Sin City Diaries. 2:12am. A blackjack dealer and his accomplice have just tried their new undetectable method of cheating. They are extremely proud of themselves, and are looking forward to their upcoming windfall. Security is already on the way.
+Sin City Diaries. 3:03am. A young woman is waiting outside a hotel suite to pay the hooker her show producer boss hired to seal the deal with a potential investor. She’s thinking the cheapskate should have sprung for better than a $300 hooker.
Sin City Diaries. 3:43 p.m. A drag queen in full costume got into a fender bender with a burly construction worker. The construction worker decided not to punch her out since she is a lady. Or perhaps because she’s 6’9 in heels.
Sin City Diaries: 8:14 a.m. A celebrity arrives at a plastic surgeon’s office to get a discrete procedure performed. She’s unaware that the receptionist ratted her out to the tabloids, and that photographers are already taking up position outside.
Sin City Diaries. 11:11pm. A gansta rapper is standing next to his limo outside the Hard Rock. He’s delaying departure because his Mother called from the suite and told him to wait ’cause she’s on her way down.
Sin City Diaries. 4:14am. A drunken gambler is urinating all over the piece of the Berlin Wall on display in the men’s room at Main Street Station casino. (No ironic commentary required.)
Sin City Diaries. 1:20pm. A man walking past a bank of slot machines unobtrusively drops a dollar token on the floor next to a woman playing a machine. He points out the token, asking her “Did you drop that?” As she bends over to pick it up, the man’s accomplice reaches through the slot bank and steals her heapin’ bucket o’ dollars.
Sin City Diaries. 1:50pm. A woman is hitting the mall to spend last night’s money. She gets rid of it as fast as she makes it because she subconsciously loathes the way she earns it
Sin City Diaries. 6pm. A Fremont street fortune teller opens up her Gypsy-style wagon/office and prepares to tell people what they want to hear for only $10 per reading. Despite the current economic situation…or perhaps because of it…her business has never been better.
Sin Ciry Diaries. 4:03pm. A couple checking into their room has already been pitched to buy a condo, see a free show, and breathe flavored oxygen. If they think these people are aggressive, wait until they meet the nighttime salesgirls!
Sin City Diaries. 2:07am. A tourist is leaving an adult ballet establishment. He’s convinced that “his” dancer really, truly cares about him, and would love to date him if it wouldn’t “get her fired.” Can’t have THAT! After all, she’s “working her way through a pre-med degree at UNLV.”
+Sin City Diaries. 1:41pm. A home-improvement superstore’s employees are scrambling to throw tarps over multiple pallets of cement-mix bags that have been left outside. Occasionally, it rains in the desert. Hard and unexpectedly.
Sin City Diaries. 2am. He’d been hanging out on the outdoor deck at VooDoo for an half an hour or so, checking out the brunette with the crooked smile and mojito. A sudden gust of wind blows her VERY short skirt up around her waist; and blows his hat off his head and over the edge…51 stories straight down. He considers it a reasonable trade as he walks over to introduce himself.
+Sin City Diaries. 2:36am. A cab driver just took a drunk tourist on a 45 minute trip that SHOULD have taken only 7. Joke’s on the cabbie. The guy is broke and is bolting out of the cab.
Sin City Diaries. 8:56pm. The Devil Worshipper who offers people Satanic pamphlets on Fremont street has been challenged by a tourist as to whether or not he’s a true Satanist. The Devil Worshipper must be new because he replied, “I am, too! Swear to God!”