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Subject: Trip report - Bill Maher in Vegas
You can’t help but love Southwest Airlines; two people round trip to Las Vegas for under $200!
We left San Diego Wednesday evening for the slightly
less than an hour ride on an almost-empty airplane.
Watching the sun disappear into the Pacific from
29,000 feet is one of those things that makes one
almost forget the absurdity that one’s shoes
must be x-rayed to keep America safe.
It was hot when we landed; 9 pm and still 112
degrees.
Our driver in his spiffy black suit was waiting
for us at baggage claim. We’ve learned over the last few trips
that it is well-worth the extra twenty bucks
for a car. The driver helps with the bags, and you don’t have to
find your way around, just follow the black suit.
A shuttle is certainly less expensive, but they drive around
the airport for an hour until the van is full
and then have to stop at 300 different hotels before they get to yours.
A cab is OK, but it cost almost as much as the
car and you still have to wait in line to get one.
And I’ve discovered when you climb out of a big
black Lincoln in front of the hotel they tend to
treat you just a little bit better. A big shout
out to the good folks at ODS Limo!!
Arriving mid-week is the only way to go. There
was no line at check-in and within minutes
we were in our room at the Stratosphere on the
22nd floor.
There is no feeling quite like opening your suitcase
to find one of those little cards from TSA explaining
ever-so-politely how it was necessary once again
to violate your rights to keep America safe, and then
realizing how lucky you are that you decided
to put the “special” cigarettes in the other bag.
This trip we didn’t even go up in the Tower. We
spent most of our time playing penny slots and lounging.
I’m not much of a gambler and I certainly don’t
know any games well enough to risk my hard-earned cash
against my lack of skill. I will put a dollar
in a dollar slot machine that I happen to randomly walk by.
I almost always get something even if it’s just
another buck. Then I cash out and move on.
There are two swimming pools at the Strat. One
is open to everyone, and the other--called “Club 25”
because it’s on the 25th floor--is adults only.
I’m thinking “an adults-only pool, no screaming rowdy kids,
can it get any better?” Well, yes it can. They
offer “European-style bathing” which means women can go topless.
Naturally, there’s a downside. While ladies are
welcomed, men have to pay $10. I have two problems with that.
First—on its face—it is blatant gender discrimination.
Obviously they do that to keep the drunken oglers out,
but I think there may be other ways to accomplish
the same thing. For the women it seems a little exploitive
in that the hotel gets to make money displaying
titties they don’t have to pay for. But the peace and quiet
was still worth it and some sun-drenched breasts
made it all that much better.
Friday night brings the real reason for our trip: Bill Maher at the Hard Rock.
Arriving at the Hard Rock, we went straight to
AJ’s Steakhouse where we had reservations for dinner.
It was truly one of the best meals I ever had!
After dinner we wandered around looking at all the
rock & roll memorabilia and then lined up
at The Joint to be seated for the show.
The venue was packed; there were hard uncomfortable
folding chairs set very close together
and a extraordinarily large woman right in front
us. Oh well.
Dude, you were lucky.
We saw Garbage's last American show there and there were no chairs.
Nothing like standing for three hours when you're having a good time.
The show was great! Bill was wearing old jeans
and a t-shirt which said “hai” (the Japanese word for “yes”)
and looked much different than the impeccably-groomed
host of Real Time we’re all used to.
Most of Maher’s set was a compilation of his end-of-show
rants from Real Time,
although at one point he had the audience repeating
“Worst President EVER”!
I wanted to drop into the Pink Taco after the
show for a shot of Chinaco, but the place was so packed,
it was all we could do just make our way to the
door. Outside there was—the only word I can think to
describe it—a clusterfuck of stretch limos. It
looked like a scene from the Blues Brothers only with
Hummer-based limousines instead of cop cars.
I got to hand it to those drivers though; during the whole time
I watched, not one car made contact with another.
The line to catch a cab wound around almost to the side
of the building; we waited at least forty minutes
for our turn at a ride.
We saw U2 at the MGM and afterwards it was hell getting a cab.
If I had any brains (should I bother?) we would've walked to a neighboring
casino and gotten a cab right away, but noooooo.
Back to the relative calm of our home base, we
took in the house band, drank a little, and danced a lot.
(Maybe it was the other way around!)
Got up Saturday morning with just enough time
to pack, eat and head for the airport.
I had left San Diego with $300 allocated for
gambling and I came home with $288;
not so bad considering that at one point I was
down to $50.
Mind Pilot
Dude, thanks for that.
I love reading the trip reports!