I’ve only been to Las Vegas once before, and the most indelible geographic memory I have is the Klingon voice narrating the stops over The Verve’s “Bittersweet Symphony” on the tram along the strip.
But last weekend, I was back in the Big Snapple (that’s what they call it…right?) with my lovely wife to meet up with DWH Ben and his awesome wife Patty. Had the best time getting to hang with them in person after two years of virtual interactions. They’re just as cool in reality as they seem on the internet.
But the things I’d forgotten between trips came rushing back in a flood of glitter and celebrity impersonation. Things like:
When gaudily-dressed poor people combine with gaudily-dressed rich people, it’s virtually impossible to distinguish one from the other. Same goes for hookers and “girls who just like to dress small.” It was fun trying to tell the difference. “Hooker…hooker…not a hooker. Totally a hooker.” Three out of four? Those are odds I can live with.
Celebrity look-alikes are everywhere – especially in the Big Bubble (that’s what they call it…right?) DWH Ben counted Wolf Blitzer and James Lipton among his sightings; I myself spied Christina Applegate circa the Kelly Bundy years, an Elvis quartet, six Michael Jacksons and four Zach Galifinakiakiakiakiseseses. I think I spelled that wrong… Some of those don’t count, since they make a career out of standing on the street so you can pay to get your picture taken. I got mine taken for free with Gwen Stefani (at the wax museum). Made me feel like I know the ins and outs of that place pretty well.
Children’s entertainment should not be present in the vicinity of adult entertainment, especially not in a town like the Big Gamble (THAT’S what they call it…so obvious now). There were minions and Elmos and Cookie Monsters and Dora the Explorer (just one) meeting-and-greeting on the curb next to the showgirls and escorts meeting-and-greeting. Even more troubling was seeing which of these the parents posed for their own photos with (hint: Elmo got a lot more play than he should have, all things considered.)
“Buffet” is considered the national food of the Big Pimple. It’s like the land of milk and honeybutter biscuits. And sadly, we didn’t eat at a single one while we were there. But we rocked the Chipotle for lunch and a sweet spot called Red Square for dinner. I didn’t miss the buffets a bit.
Most importantly, I remembered how awesome the trading cards are! And they’re EVERYWHERE…people just hand them to you like they’re going out of style.
Let’s hope they never do.
The Big Bumble wouldn’t be the same without them.