What happens in Vegas...

I posted this before. It moved slowly and I got impatient, so I deleted it. I had posted a link on Facebook and a woman commented, "This is for real..." I checked her profile and she appeared to have had or has a life in Vegas. She had photos that looked like she had been a showgirl. Regardless -- acknowledgement from an insider! I was gratified. 

Anyway, here it is again. like it or lump  it. I like it. 

The standard pedestrian profanities. The F word. You been warned. 

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas

But what does that sniggering little hook really mean? You have to take out a second mortgage? You went to an exotic dance club and had a lap dance? You paid for a blowjob? You scored a rock on Fremont Street and smoked it in your motel room? You woke up next to a dead whore in your hotel room but you phoned security and they disposed of the body for you? You gave them a nice tip?

I moved there in 1987 and the saying then was, “Las Vegas, the family way to play!” I don’t know who cooks up these slogans. I think it’s the Convention and Visitors Authority. Naturally they have to market the shit out of Vegas because the town has a lot of competition now. Since AC came online it’s been relentless but what’s worse is the advent of Indian reserve gaming.

There used to be a nice golf course across from the Tropicana, behind the Marina Hotel. This was before MGM built there. One time I was visiting my friend, my meth connection, Sandy, and she was house-sitting for someone. It was a gorgeous apartment, picture windows, huge green expanse and palm trees. They tore all that out and built a theme park that I went through in 1995 or ’96. Now that’s gone too. The Dunes and its golf course went years before. I worked at the Trop as a masseur and at the same time I worked at the Dunes on one weekend day doing massage for Suzie, the Japanese woman who owned the concession.

There used to be a water park on LV blvd somewhere south of Sahara – the Wet and Wild it was called. It was closed down in 2004. One of Wynn’s joints might be on top of it now. Apparently another Wet and Wild will be opening in the summer of 2013. There is still a Circus Circus theme park.

Generally the “Family way” deal has been scuttled and it is now flesh and silver, timeless attractions. I guess part of the ubiquitous nature of the new saying is the idea that you are privy to something hidden, something secret, you are on the inside and as well the notion that Vegas tolerates certain extremes of behavior, and that might be true. Especially if you have money, like Howard Hughes, that’s one example.

When I was first mulling over moving to Vegas, starting a life there, I thought I knew what it was about -- a huge money machine. I apprehended the impersonality of the place, that underneath it all beat a cold heart but for some reason I figured that because I lived and worked there I would be immune from the caustic reality of it.

Of all the joints I ever worked at, I think fourteen of them were dealing jobs, of all those jobs, every one of them would let you play the machines on your breaks. And since dealers are getting a 20 minute break every hour, that’s what? Five breaks a shift? Dealers should know better, right? There were always two or three dealers at any one joint on my shift that when they caught my eye I would start moving. These people, “Hey, can I borrow five bucks until tomorrow?” You were better off lending them the money, that way you could say, “But you still owe me five bucks from last time.” “Make it ten, I’m good for it!”

Or you could say, “I was just going to ask you.” These people would start talking to you about nothing in particular. You’re just waiting for the touch. They would say, “Lend me five bucks and I will pay you $7.50 tomorrow.” Fuck right off, man!  

These people were always broke. You come into work and you get your envelope, your tokes and it’s the same money everyone else cuts but these people...

You would think they knew better.

One guy, a black guy, a big guy, I called him big foot because he had polio or something and he had one big, flat shoe like a clown's shoe. This guy claimed he needed a cab or some horseshit and he was a good hustler and he worked me and I lent him 20 bucks. For the next two days he dodged me in the little downtown casino we were working in. I couldn’t catch him when we were both on break.

Finally, I marched up to his game and he had two players on his blackjack game. This game was on the inside end of the casino and only had tables to the south of me. In other words, not too many people heard me. I look at this guy, I lean in, “You’re going to give me my money.” The player’s faces registered shock. There’s some insider shit for you. But remember it stays in Vegas.

I got my money back before the end of the shift and he was whining, “You know I was good for it!” He had asked a dice dealer I worked with about me, “You better give him his money, that guy’s really crazy.” This was a couple of years before I started on the medication -- three years. That was my nickname there: psycho.

I could give you lots of examples like that guy. It’s a sleazy town, at the level I lived at. Here’s another example; a boxman who went out after our shift was over and played dice at the Cal. He claimed to always win, but they all say that. Maybe he did. Eight hours was enough for me. Anyway, I had my own vices but gambling wasn’t one of them.

For some reason, people lose all common sense when it comes to Vegas. One time my uncle, my dad’s brother, came to Vegas, him and his girlfriend. They stayed at the Excalibur a middle-level monstrosity on the new four corners, across from the Tropicana. I’m waiting downstairs at one of the bars and I decide to have a drink. I order my drink, a Greyhound; He comes down and sees me, “What are you doing?” “Getting a drink.” “You can get a free drink right over there.” He points to a bank of slots. Pause — “I don’t need a twenty dollar free drink.”

Vegas used to be cheap if you didn’t gamble. I was back there in August of 2011 and what the fuck? Because nothing is cheap anymore. The Ex used to have a fairly good buffet for seven bucks for the dinner buffet. Now it’s 20 bucks. I imagine it’s still cheap to live there. Especially the neighborhoods I used to live in. Groceries and booze are cheap. The town is in a fairly deep recession.

I’ve wandered here. There was a guy that owned Fremont Street slot joints at the juncture of Main and Fremont, the Coin Castle; Sassy Sally’s was another one. This guy was named Pastor. He had Asian woman doing a hard hustle up in the carousels, “Me show you looky machine…” We made fun of them. I was hanging out with a friend; we’re in black in white, breaking in as dice dealers. This guy turned one of his joints into a strip joint and he was finally making some real money. If you went in there security was on you instantly, “You have buy a drink. “ You have to buy a seven dollar drink.

In summation, did what happened in Vegas really stay in Vegas? Not really, not for me. I didn’t walk away from too much, from the choices I made. It’s a hell of a slogan though.