Friday, July 30, 2004
Las Vegas and the Democratic National Convention
Earlier this week I had to go to Las Vegas on a business trip. My company is pursuing a sewer master plan for the City of Henderson, located southeast of Las Vegas. The LV office needed me for the interview, because I'm known as an expert when it comes to modeling sewers with this one particular modeling program. That's right - I'm an expert... My paycheck gives no indication that I'm an expert in anything, except for being a total pushover when it comes to working long hours on total headache projects.
Now, I've already been to Las Vegas a few times and have lost my fair share of quarters, screwed up the rhythm of a black jack game to the point of being shamed into leaving the table, and made an ass out of myself by hitting a guy in the head with dice while playing craps. None the less, I still managed to see the appeal of Sin City... well, now that I think of it, that's when I was watching the movie Casino and practically drooling over Sharon Stone's hot outfits - goddamn!! Any woman would be purring like a smitten kitten to have a wardrobe like that, not to mention having a body whose curves resemble that of a winding road, tattooing its trail up a green velvet mountain. Lick my lips and swing my hips, hallelujah!
I stayed at the Gold Coast Casino Hotel. Originally I thought it was funny that my company was putting me up in a casino - why not just a regular hotel? I'll tell you why not just a "regular" hotel. People who come to Vegas stay at the casinos - they want the experience, yada, yada. So it's not like there's a huge market in Vegas for just "regular" hotels. "Regular" hotels have no lobbies filled with ringing slot machines and aren't decorated with carpets that have really busy patterns (why is it that casinos have carpets that make you feel like you're on acid?). "Regular" hotels in Vegas look like the houses/trailer homes found in the north Georgia mountains - collapsible.
The Gold Coast is definitely on the lower end of the glitzy casino spectrum. The typical patron at the Gold Coast would be considered geriatric, even though they may be in their 30's. Leathery skin, cigarettes clinging to chapped lips, blood shot eyes, and faces that are reminiscent of the California Gold Rush are what you'll see at the Gold Coast. The front row of slot machines are reserved for those with walkers and oxygen tanks. The second row is reserved for those with overly plump asses. There are no cute girls all dressed up to pretend they don't notice you noticing them. And I'm sure I don't have to explain why there is no line for the buffet - charred steak, mysteriously still showing the powdered residue of meat tenderizer. None the less, the Gold Coast still has some appeal... air conditioning and fairly decent water pressure.
During my stay, I took advantage of having a TV to watch. Jen and I have banned television from our home; it's been over three years since I've owned a boob tube. But when I do get a chance to watch one, I become hypnotized by its blinking eyeball of advertisements and scenes staged by actors who take themselves way too seriously - actors who play characters that talk of very important things but never mention how shitty the coffee is that they're drinking or giggle at the silly things that make a real person giggle. Life is very dramatic when lived in TV land, and nobody wears the same clothes twice.
After a long day of preparing a presentation that ended up boring one of my audience members to sleep, I laid in a king sized bed, covered with bleached clean sheets and a thin polyester orange bedspread, flipping through ten channels - one of which was in Spanish and another devoted to Keno. As luck would have it, the Democratic National Convention was on. It was all well and good. I would fall asleep to one speaker and wake to another - not unlike the guy forced to sit through my oratory saturated with technical talk and hydraulics language. Poor guy - I bet he was hung-over. I sure hope he's not a key player in determining which consulting firm wins the job... Yeah, I'm sure he was hung-over.
Speaking of hangovers, I was surprised to see Ted Kennedy as one of the speakers at the convention. Holy Christ in a hand basket!! Who made the decision to book that guy? I wasn't alive when it happened, but have we forgotten about Chappaquiddick? Not to mention the various puddles of booze and pissed off women left in the wake of this man? Really now, out of all the thousands of democrats who have worked hard for this country, why did this party of donkeys choose the most ornery of them all? Other than Ted, I was pretty pleased with the convention, as far as conventions go. All that cheering, balloons, streamers, and Ron Jr.'s guest appearance have convinced me that Ol' George W. will be vacationing in Texas instead of Camp David.
While watching the convention, I couldn't help but notice how politicians have very saggy faces. What's up with that? Even the guys in their 40's have faces similar to an old hound dog tired from a long day of squirrel chasing. I know what office Ted should hold - Best Politician Face. His fat face with bloated eye bags and jowls hanging over his shirt collar would drive any campaign to victory in representing politicians' mugs. I don't think I've ever seen so much loose skin in one place (well, I did stay at the Gold Coast). If there had been a strong breeze at the convention, the flags would not have been the only ones waving.
Awaking to the glitz of Sin City and falling asleep to the confetti-filled theatrics of Democrats - it's been an exhausting week.
Now, I've already been to Las Vegas a few times and have lost my fair share of quarters, screwed up the rhythm of a black jack game to the point of being shamed into leaving the table, and made an ass out of myself by hitting a guy in the head with dice while playing craps. None the less, I still managed to see the appeal of Sin City... well, now that I think of it, that's when I was watching the movie Casino and practically drooling over Sharon Stone's hot outfits - goddamn!! Any woman would be purring like a smitten kitten to have a wardrobe like that, not to mention having a body whose curves resemble that of a winding road, tattooing its trail up a green velvet mountain. Lick my lips and swing my hips, hallelujah!
I stayed at the Gold Coast Casino Hotel. Originally I thought it was funny that my company was putting me up in a casino - why not just a regular hotel? I'll tell you why not just a "regular" hotel. People who come to Vegas stay at the casinos - they want the experience, yada, yada. So it's not like there's a huge market in Vegas for just "regular" hotels. "Regular" hotels have no lobbies filled with ringing slot machines and aren't decorated with carpets that have really busy patterns (why is it that casinos have carpets that make you feel like you're on acid?). "Regular" hotels in Vegas look like the houses/trailer homes found in the north Georgia mountains - collapsible.
The Gold Coast is definitely on the lower end of the glitzy casino spectrum. The typical patron at the Gold Coast would be considered geriatric, even though they may be in their 30's. Leathery skin, cigarettes clinging to chapped lips, blood shot eyes, and faces that are reminiscent of the California Gold Rush are what you'll see at the Gold Coast. The front row of slot machines are reserved for those with walkers and oxygen tanks. The second row is reserved for those with overly plump asses. There are no cute girls all dressed up to pretend they don't notice you noticing them. And I'm sure I don't have to explain why there is no line for the buffet - charred steak, mysteriously still showing the powdered residue of meat tenderizer. None the less, the Gold Coast still has some appeal... air conditioning and fairly decent water pressure.
During my stay, I took advantage of having a TV to watch. Jen and I have banned television from our home; it's been over three years since I've owned a boob tube. But when I do get a chance to watch one, I become hypnotized by its blinking eyeball of advertisements and scenes staged by actors who take themselves way too seriously - actors who play characters that talk of very important things but never mention how shitty the coffee is that they're drinking or giggle at the silly things that make a real person giggle. Life is very dramatic when lived in TV land, and nobody wears the same clothes twice.
After a long day of preparing a presentation that ended up boring one of my audience members to sleep, I laid in a king sized bed, covered with bleached clean sheets and a thin polyester orange bedspread, flipping through ten channels - one of which was in Spanish and another devoted to Keno. As luck would have it, the Democratic National Convention was on. It was all well and good. I would fall asleep to one speaker and wake to another - not unlike the guy forced to sit through my oratory saturated with technical talk and hydraulics language. Poor guy - I bet he was hung-over. I sure hope he's not a key player in determining which consulting firm wins the job... Yeah, I'm sure he was hung-over.
Speaking of hangovers, I was surprised to see Ted Kennedy as one of the speakers at the convention. Holy Christ in a hand basket!! Who made the decision to book that guy? I wasn't alive when it happened, but have we forgotten about Chappaquiddick? Not to mention the various puddles of booze and pissed off women left in the wake of this man? Really now, out of all the thousands of democrats who have worked hard for this country, why did this party of donkeys choose the most ornery of them all? Other than Ted, I was pretty pleased with the convention, as far as conventions go. All that cheering, balloons, streamers, and Ron Jr.'s guest appearance have convinced me that Ol' George W. will be vacationing in Texas instead of Camp David.
While watching the convention, I couldn't help but notice how politicians have very saggy faces. What's up with that? Even the guys in their 40's have faces similar to an old hound dog tired from a long day of squirrel chasing. I know what office Ted should hold - Best Politician Face. His fat face with bloated eye bags and jowls hanging over his shirt collar would drive any campaign to victory in representing politicians' mugs. I don't think I've ever seen so much loose skin in one place (well, I did stay at the Gold Coast). If there had been a strong breeze at the convention, the flags would not have been the only ones waving.
Awaking to the glitz of Sin City and falling asleep to the confetti-filled theatrics of Democrats - it's been an exhausting week.
