[« And...About Helping those Women to get a leg up in the World] [The timing just has to be right.... »]
06/17/2005: Thought for the Day:
There are few things more miserable than the red-eye flight back to anywhere from Las Vegas, especially when you're unable to sleep and the movie playing is The Wedding Date (starring Debra Messing and Dermot "Hey, This is My Second Shitty Movie with 'Wedding' in the Title" Mulroney in a reverse twist on Pretty Woman's "whore makes good" theme). Continental also, for some reason, really enjoys taking off from one terminal (C) and landing at another one (E), necessitating a 3/4-mile walk to get to one's car.
But you don't want to hear about that. You want to know about [a] all the money I won, [b] the booze I drank, and [c] the colorful personalities I met during my adventures in Vegas. These can be addressed pretty easily: [a] $12 on a Star Wars slot machine, [b] beer, mostly, and [c] none, after Friday.
Wasn't up for gambling most of the time I was there, for some reason. I've come to the conclusion that casinos disturb me, and not just for the legions of zombie tourists playing the slot machines arrayed in ranks around the creamy nougat center of craps and blackjack tables. No, I think this it's because this is one of the first times I ever spent a significant amount of time outside while in Vegas. And after taking in the "scenery" at the Palms hotel pool or the view from the Ghostbar, subjecting yourself to the unending parade of blinking lights and droning beeps and whistles inside is somehow not so appetizing.
Another creepy thing all of us in attendance noticed: the entire city of Vegas seems to be on the same soundtrack. Every casino, club, and party we went to played the same goddamn songs, even if there was an alleged DJ present. Worse, all seemed to be roughly one year old. There was that one about not being a "holla back girl," whatever the hell that means, and also the one by some girl who claims her milkshake brings "all the goys to the barn," or something. Fairly innocuous, you say? Not 50 times over the course of two days.
I mean, I always assumed Vegas (the Strip, especially) was this massive networked series of gaming and security systems, all run by some vaguely Yog-Sothothian being housed in a giant cave under Nellis Air Force Base. I just wasn't expecting it to be confirmed so conclusively.
--Pete Vonder Haar [on his trip to CineVegas]
Len on 06.17.05 @ 05:31 AM CST
