Posted by: martinworster | July 12, 2007


Vegas baby…

Click to enlarge!I had my brother over for a week so we decided to exercise fear and loathing in Vegas. I’d heard the Hard Rock Hotel was worth a punt so took the plunge and booked a night. It’s located off the strip on Paradise Road. The main hotel surrounds a big gambling area with roulette tables shaped like pianos. Being the Hard Rock Hotel the place is bundled with rock memorabilia. Van Halen’s guitar, Santanas multi-coloured jacket as worn at Woodstock, Prince’s jockstrap and Elton’s tiara, to name a few. The walls are lined with Gold and Platinum Discs. I saw one for the Best of Cream and George Michael’s Faith.

At the back of the hotel there’s a pool with mock sand and gambling tables you can swim up to. Lythe bubble gum beauties with tattooed buttocks and silicon valleys serve you cocktails and food. Around the pool you can hire cabanas for the day at $225 a pop. For that you get air conditioning, a bottle of Vodka, a personal waitress and a flat screen TV. Not sure why you would want to catch up on CSI repeats whilst sitting by the pool but I guess it looks good. I drank a weak Mojito in a big green plastic cup which I put in my bag aftewards as a souvenir.

Around the pool American youth partied and played. They have a different way of partying to Brits and Europeans. Italian New Yorkers flexed their muscles and smoked cigarettes whilst checking out the birds. Birds walked around, dipping into the pool and secretly checked out the boys. Who had the biggest muscles, the most perfectly honed butt? Shouts of ‘yeeeaaah’ and ‘whoooo’ emphasised the fact we were in America and people were having a ‘good time’. You betcha. Way to go.

Vegas is good as you can smoke in bars. That’s my favourite thing about it. It’s instantly more relaxed and dangerous. Vegas is party time. What happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas. As they say out here. Vegas is Blackpool on steroids. Blue rinses come to smoke and feed quarters to machines. Addicts fruitlessly lay their last dollars on numbers with secret meanings. Different addicts excorcise their demons in legalised brothels. Tourists come to gawp and take pictures, or maybe catch Elton or Celine crooning. Nothing we did stayed in Vegas.


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