Wednesday, 7 April 2010

Last day. This is the last time I'll be sitting here with the steady beeping of the casino floor, perched at a round table that is too high, and on a stool which is too low, with two Bud Lites and the manic speed slotters for company (on the hour every hour, they resume bashing away). I shall miss them all.
However, enough of the sentimentality, I did venture up The Strip yesterday. I calculated a visit to City Centre, Las Vegas's 2010 attempt to fabricate a 'real centre' should be complimented by an immediate dash the 1970's Riviera where I could oggle some old fashioned Bulgarian cocktail waitresses in authentic Vegas garb.
CC was fucking awful. I actually think I hate 'contemporary' architecture. The feature bit of Danny fucking Leibeskind full of posh shops with nobody in them and one table of idiots fine dining in a weird pod is a travesty, a travesty.
The retreat to the 1970's was more complicated than I had hoped, for the Vegans have contrived such a rat trap of CC that it's hard to escape, and I was, well, enveloped, in crappola. I stood there in panic on some walkway above something and below something else amidst a hell of angles in stainless steel gaping at all this shit and thought 'I've spent fifteen years of my life loving this place, and now look what they've done!' Where's the fun of replicating the Renaissance gone?
They complained of traffic on the bus back to the Riviera (vegans don't do infrastructure very well) and of course, the Riv just looked kind of sad, like an old dog waiting for the end. I embraced the old dog with tears in my eyes.
So then the only option was a treat at The Girls of Glitter Gultch' back 'home' downtown, where you can happily rid yourself of $100 in about a millisecond with some girl from Minnesota. And of course, there are lots of lovely girls from Minnesota to enjoy. They had refurbished the place to look EXACTLY THE WAY IT WAS! A triumph of the imagination in my opinion. The lovely girl from Minnesota remarked 'Well I think it used to be green, but now I think it's red' It's hard to tell in the black light where the bartender has to shine a torch for you to check your change. Happy Days.

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