Las Vegas - Don't Even Go There - Page 2
Former Haunt Of Sinatra And Dino Has Mutated Into A Nightmarish Disneyland
So I was sucked in. I dropped an ungodly amount on tickets to Michael Jackson ONE - Cirque de Soleil. My hotel was part of the MGM hotels putting on the show – which means I should have been able to get tickets for a reasonable amount – but the concierge told me there were no tickets left. Somehow Ticketmaster had a handful of tickets available online (shocking), so I paid full freight. About $350. As I picked up the print outs of the tickets from the concierge desk, a guy was buying tickets to another popular Cirque show – the sexy one that would have been appropriate for V-Day – for one-quarter the price I just paid Ticketmaster. Ugh.
At the show, the raping continued when we ordered mixed drinks. A surly Latino man served them up in ridiculously large plastic cups. The price for these two poorly made drinks: $42. I protested and asked if there were a smaller size. After all, our abdominal cavities are only so large. Two smalls would have been $38, he said. This is the same obnoxious pricing strategy that movie theaters – another place to avoid – use for their soda but at least they only steal an extra $3 for a soda. These drinks were 200-percent more than what they should have cost.
I admit that the show was impressive and was especially a hit with the date, but for the price we could have done many, many other things – like fly to Europe. Somehow I could not help but feel like Macaulay Culkin at the Neverland Ranch the morning after a boozy slumber party.
The Walking Is Frightful
The best adjective to describe a walk down the Las Vegas Strip is “dystopian.” Sure, there are some nice people mixed in with the dregs that pack the sidewalks and catwalks – more about these catwalks in a minute. But these decent and pleasant people are few and far between. These are the few odd European couples that walk with an astonished look on their faces and the overfed Midwesterners clutching their purses to their bloated flanks. Most of the people milling around, however, look like they just spilled out of an Oakland Raiders football game. Read: thugs.
Relatively new are the pedestrian catwalks that one must use to traverse Las Vegas Blvd. (the Strip). This does not sound like a big to-do, but it is. In order to cross the street you must pile into crowded escalators and then navigate a walkway bounded by tall glass walls. Desperate souls that are not quite homeless and not quite entertainers but something in between barricade the walkways. There was a black woman wearing a fedora that had her five-year-old dancing like Michael Jackson for donations. This duo stopped traffic until people’s stomachs started to turn when they could see how unhappy the poor kid was.
[The fact that the city allows these street performers to block pedestrians reveals just how stupid or corrupt its managers are.]
Most of the stores seem to cater to thug wannabe types. For example, you’ve got your Harley-Davidson store selling overpriced T-shirts and catty corner to that is a massive tattoo parlor. If you venture off of the Strip, it gets worse. You might rather walk along the 405 freeway. It really is that pleasant. You will find yourself alongside beat up cars spewing exhaust fumes and sharing narrow sidewalks with men that look like they are barely keeping their schizophrenia at bay and might slit your throat if you looked them in the eye.
The Driving Is Just As Bad
If you live in a Western state, you might be tempted to drive to Las Vegas. If you have done the drive before, the traffic to Las Vegas has gotten worse. But once you arrive, you are in for a real hellish driving experience. The signage for hotel parking is abysmal. Finding my just-off-the-strip, luxury hotel was an adventure – even with GPS. Then the self-parking sign was deceptive and we ended up taking a newfangled tram from the wrong parking structure to the hotel. It was exhausting.
Parking at the MGM for the Cirque show was an adventure in and of itself. The valet was full, and I was forced to circle the garage for 25 minutes. The garage had no signage to inform pedestrians how to enter the casino, so I had to wander around.
Driving along the Strip is how you might imagine driving through Times Square – lots of lights and lots of tourists but little movement. We tried to avoid the Strip when returning home from our show but discovered that it was impossible to get to our hotel using the next street over.
In sum, getting anywhere in the part of Las Vegas you want to be in is a hassle whether you walk or drive. Now remember that this is not your commute; this is your vacation.
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