Prepare to show me some geek love, people. I’m in Las Vegas…….at a Star Trek convention! That’s right. I came all the way to sin city for the 45th anniversary of Star Trek. Love me.
Of course, sin city doesn’t really have much of the sin anymore. I’ve been here a lot, mostly in my youth before a lot of the super hotels were built, or if they were built, before they were really super, taking up multiple city blocks on their own. Caesar’s palace alone took us about fifteen to twenty minutes to just walk by. Though the fountains in front of the Bellagio were made of awesome.
When I was a teenager, I remember having to dodge sleazy dudes handing out flyers for hookers. I remember everywhere the rhinestones and showgirls and strippers.
Now the showgirls are contained in large reviews at some of the less big hotels, the strippers are sort of a theme (the stripper bar didn’t really seem to have any, but you could take a lesson in pole dancing) and the only time we saw an advertisement for prostitutes, they were still trying to convince everyone they were escorts.
Sure, some horny guys and gals are still flocking here, searching for action, and there are the ever present gamblers (though not nearly so many as before) but we’ve mostly seen families with small children, walking and gawking like the rest of us.
*Side rant* I swear to the fucking universe, I’m going to crusade for a mandatory class called Be A-Fucking-Ware of Your Surroundings! And it’s going to be taught worldwide, in whatever grade it needs to be taught in. If you need to consult your map, get out of the middle of the goddamned sidewalk before you do it, or the people around you will run into your dumbass like a herd of stampeding cattle. No, the top of the escalator is NOT a good place to stop with your brood and try and figure out where you are. Kids are no excuse to act like a gaggle of douche-canoes. Little Timmy throws a fit because he’s scared of the escalator? Pick his ass up and go and find the elevator. Yes, this town is also unfamiliar to the rest of us, but the rest of us aren’t losing our shit at the slightest provocation. Be aware of other people. Get out of the way.
I’m going to go hide at the Star Trek convention. Where everything makes sense…because it’s written in Klingon. As a parting shot, I have a present for Sherlock Holmes. Your arch nemesis is in Arizona. His town is so big it’s divided in half, and the highway commission has thoughtfully told you where he exits.