9.20.07

Las Vegas...24 Hours at a Time...

Let me preface this by saying that I am not a Vegas-lover. In fact--I'd probably go so far as to say that I'm a Vegas-hater---but it is undoubtedly the most uniquely cliched city in the world.

I do have to admit that there is something about this place---but it doesn't come out when you're one of the masses, limping from casino to casino, on your 19th drink and last dime...it comes clear when you're here on a convention, in a moderately-sober capacity.

You see things that you wouldn't normally see and hear things that you normally wouldn't here---basically because you're normally the one creating the sights and sounds. It is for this reason that I think that today's blog will be vastly superior to the one I post a week from Monday, chronicling the same 24 hour period that starts a VACATION in this dreadful place.

With so many distractions in this city, I thought it was important to site my favorite Godfather quote about business to keep me focused on work--as it was never more appropo--

"There was this kid I grew up with - he was younger than me. Sorta looked up to me - you know. We did our first work together - worked our way out of the street. Things were good, we made the most of it. During Prohibition - we ran molasses into Canada - made a fortune - you father, too. As much as anyone, I loved him - and trusted him. Later on he had an idea - to build a city out of a desert stop-over for GI's on the way to the West Coast. That kid's name was Moe Green - and the city he invented was Las Vegas. This was a great man - a man of vision and guts. And there isn't even a plaque - or a signpost - or a statue of him in that town! Someone put a bullet through his eye. No one knows who gave the order - when I heard it, I wasn't angry; I knew Moe - I knew he was head-strong, talking loud, saying stupid things. So when he turned up dead - I let it go. And I said to myself, this is the business we've chosen - I didn't ask who gave the order - because it had nothing to do with business!"
-Hyman Roth

(Note--I cut/paste that for accuracy, as I was certain I'd butcher it. Nope--I would have screwed up maybe three words---probably my favorite movie quote of all-time.)

Anyway...here goes something... (And I apologize for the sporadic times--I can't very well blog while in meetings---and am unprofessional, but still unwilling to divulge the details of them by memory.) (And I further apologize for not having that much fun on this trip. Most of you will finish this reading by saying that I'm a giant pansy--but I can live with that...)

7:55 Tuesday. I've heard it said that a trip to Vegas begins the moment you board the plane to the desert---so I figured that was an appropriate time to begin chronicling Part I of McFly's Vegas Adventures: The Convention.


7:56. There is a book sitting on the control panel of the jetway entitled, "Secret Rapture"--it is a grocery store smut novel. I'm thinking the author blew it in not naming it "Secret Raptor", the erotic love story of a shy carnivorous dinosaur.

7:59. There is a guy on my flight with his pregnant wife that looks 14. I'm not saying he looks youthful, I'm saying he looks 14. Dress him in sweats instead of a suit, you'd immediately call him "Timmy.". Tell me this---is this guy's wife a pedophile because she's attracted to someone who LOOKS 14??


8:21. I think that USAir has given us the pleasure of a Vegas-based crew. I was asleep during takeoff to hear them announce that (which is a terrible idea coming out of John Wayne--waking up on a plane in middair without hearing the engines running is more than a little disconcerting--but I digress) that is the case---but "Linda" screams "Vegas". I don't know if it is
A) the eleven pounds of Maybeline on her face
B) darker roots than the Olympic National Forest
C) the off-color, oblong pearls
Or
D) the forehead that resembles the floormats of a '78 oldsmobile

But something is telling me she spends a bit too much time in this city.

8:38. I'm typing this on my blackberry and realizing that at the rate its battery has been draining, this may be chronicling my first HOUR in the City of Sincerity.


8:41. Who sings "Suicide Blonde"? It is somehow in my head and feels like a great "remember this one??...okay next track" song for my ipod. (Whithout those songs, my ipod would consist of Frou Frou "Let Go", Snow Patol "Chasing Cars" accoustic, and nothing else.)


8:48. I actually enjoy looking at the Strip from the air...it looks so peaceful--just a bunch of cool buildings. (Of course they also say that atomic bombs look beautiful from above...go figure?)


9:02. As much as I tell myself that I hate this city, there is a rush that you get, even when you're here for work. It is the pre-convention day, which for me consists of three pretty important meetings...and yet I find myself checking my watch to see if I'll have time to get to Caesar's Sports Book in time to get a few bets on the NHL preseason down before my meetings start. (Just a note---if you ever find yourself betting on pre-season hockey, it isn't time to attend a couple of meetings...it is time to kill yourself.)

9:18. Normally baggage claim in Vegas is some of the best people-watching you'll ever find. Two mitigating factors today:
A) It is Tuesday at 9 AM
B) I'm too busy writing this effing blog.
At least there are a few posters of uncomfortably undressed men. (Here's a thought for guys who think that they're 0% gay--would you rather see a naked 300 lb woman or a naked Chippendales dancer? Really? You're lying.)


9:23. Just observed a woman head-to-toe in vellure...chihuahua in toe...screaming the following into her phone: "you f***ing b****! You got in last night?!?! (Looks to male cohort who looks like the epitome of douche) Tracy got in last night!! That f***ing bitch.". I have little to no doubt that I would hate this woman---but can I please attach a camera to her and see what her next three days are like? I called my friend at the MGM to see what the odds were that she gets through the weekend without being naked in the presence of someone other than the person she came with and he said that they had to take it off of the board, because, "our boards only go up to seven digits."


9:40. This is terrible. I'm through baggage, cab and check-in...add to that the fact that my room is somehow ready and I still have 2+ hours until meeting 1. Vegas hates me.



10:08. The term "Non-smoking-room" doesn't quite have the same validity in this city...so I'm just going to deal with it. But I'm still at a loss as to what I'm going to do for the next 90 minutes or so.
10:09. IRONING! That's it! The worst necessary-evil of business travel is finally saving me. Nothing says "Vegas" like ironing!!!

11:48. Back through the casino. I love the directions in Vegas Casinos---the arrow points "to the conference center" but really means "this way to get lost on the way to the conference center."

11:52. I miss Dave Matthews sometimes...I just heard Grey Street as I was walking through the casino. I'd love to get the soundtrack for Caesar's---just a bunch of music to keep you subtly jacked up...pretty bitchin'. (This is about the time where I should note that despite being a good twenty years younger than the average inhabitant at this Casino/Hotel, it has always been one of my favorites. I don't know that it is the last of the classic Vegas hotels that still operates at the same level, in the same form or what---and frankly, I'm probably not a big enough Vegas expert to accurately comment--but don't Caesar's--it isn't too bad.)

11:54. Shocking, I'm lost. I'm looking for the Imperial Board room...I really hope Vader is in this meeting.

11:57. I think I'm on my way--of course via eleven other conferences. The dress for mine is "Business Casual"...I think I just passed one whose dress code was "A Halloween costume of a business woman---only sluttier."

12:05. Waiting for the previous vendor to leave so I can enter---i drew the lucky time-slot of meeting over lunch, which means I get my first round of conference food. Thank goodness my room has a beday.

12:07. This happened last year if I remember correctly...the vendor before me ran long and sent the whole day down a long spiral...we have 630 reservations with part of this group tonight. Last year they were at 6...we were seated around 11:15. Answer me this---when was the last time you had a meeting (not including internal meetings) that lasted over an hour and was productive? Just not possible. Meetings should be 30 minutes long with a 15-minute wind-down afterward. Why don't people have my perfect sense of logic??

2:20. The last hour of that meeting was brutal...my stomach is churning so badly from lunch that I'm presently in the midst of a 20-minute hotel room break before taking a can into downtown LV for my next meeting.
Can someone just eliminate dairy from lunch buffets??

2:38. In the taxi line, looking across at the Flamingo at the casino-sized picture of Toni Braxton. Now okay---it is a phenomenal picture, but I just don't see where people get of calling Halle Berry and Tyra Banks the two most-attractive black women in the country while Toni Braxton is still living. It isn't even a contest in my book.

2:40. Here's a Vegas first for me---taking a cab into the actual city of Las Vegas. I don't know exactly how to describe the look the cabbie gave me when I told him the address---but it was somewhere between, "you want to do WHAT to my sister?" and "you're going to wear THAT?"

2:44. Christopher Cross is playing at the Gold Coast this weekend...I just extended my trip.

2:45. I haven't been there in a while, but how much fun is the Palms? Way smaller, way too crowded, terrible sports book--and yet you love it. It is like the Corona of casinos---no reason to like it, but still your first choice.

2:52. It is so hacky to comment on the smell of a taxi driver, but if I had to guess at this guys cologne, I might guess bison ass covered in curry. Yeah--i'll go with that.

2:57. On Onstar commercial had a siren in it and the cabbie pulled over. I'm not annoyed because I've done the same thing. They've outlawed blue lights from cars---can't they outlaw sirens from radio?

3:08. There is a show in Vegas that is all impressions: Elvis, Madonna, Elton John, Brtney, Liza Minelli...only here's the kicker: they're midgets. It's called, "Little Legends", check it out.



4:58. Back in a cab headed to Caesar's. Since most bowling alleys went smoke free, I don't think I've had that experience of being in a closed-area where nobody is smoking, but still getting second hand---well that streak is officially over. I realize that people come here to try to kill themselves, but do they really need to kill the rest of us by smoking? Is there any chance that I could start the first smoke-free casino on the strip and have any success? I doubt it--but I'm going to try anyway--anyone able to help out with financing??

5:15. The cabbie just gave me eleven or so receipt forms. I'm not goimg to do it, but tell me that this couldn't be the biggest expense report scam in history? No proof, no direction---yet completely indisputable.

5:40. SPOILER ALERT! I'm getting bombarded with emails regarding next week's LV trip. The subject is the poop that was left in my shower during the last Team Trip. Clearly I didn't Turd Ferguson my own shower---but they're enjoying harassing me about it (even though one of them is guilty.) I predict this is a theme of next weekend's blog.

5:45. Leaving my room to "roam around" for 45 mins before dinner. I see this ending poorly (and in the Sports Book.)

5:53. In regard to my comments about Toni Braxton, I was wrong. I just rolled past Antoine Walker and his entourage, and we have THREE new leaders in the clubhouse.

5:57. They actually have futures on the Grey Cup. Remember what I said about the NHL Preseason? We have a new leader in the clubhouse.

6:11. How distracting is Vegas for work? I just bumped into a client who was walking with a potential client I've been trying to get on the phone for months...and I have ZERO business cards on me. (Got lucky on this one---we're all eating together and I may be able to get the poopoo back in the horse.)

6:21. The vendors at these things have their own fraternity. I just got a call from one of them. Pretty much ended like this:
Him: "you're going to dinner with clients, yeah? Well if you want to meet up later, we could go drink."
Vegas.

6:27. Back to the Sportsbook. The Allouettes are 5/1...how do I lay-off that?

6:29. Navy -12 over Duke...I like.

6:31. Green Bay +5 at home against SD...I also like.

6:32. Okay---dinner...more to come.

8:35. Dinner at a Benihana-style restaraunt. Beyond my speaking my broken Japanese to the chef and the classic Miyagi chopsticks-to-fly routine that made two people laugh and five others wonder what the hell I was doing...pretty uneventful.
And no---the client didn't show. I'm retarded.

8:41. I'm currently sitting in Shadow Bar, waiting for some clients who are having a private meeting outside that they asked me to leave. There was a time where I didn't like eating in restaraunts alone...now I'm by myself in one of the most visible bars in the country. I've finally achieved Loner Mastery!!!!

9:05. Classic Vegas scene. Guy who has a bunch of money but completely devoid of social skills with two women who he is paying handsomely for. Easily my favorite part of Vegas.

9:38. Rip Torn walks into the bar by himself in a warm-up suit that is either a) from the 70s or b) made in Sweden. He stands, looks side-to-side...moves ten feet...looks side to side...continues this for about five minutes and then leavees.

10:09. I won't identify the 55-year-old mortgage insurance rep from the deep south that is at a lot of these meetings...but he just walked up to our table and began a statement like this: "I just got the best Johnny Rivers album."
Find me a better way to start a statement--I challenge you.


10:45. Still out. I had two beers and switched to Perrier. Normally nobody gives you crap about drinking club soda because they assume it has booze in it. Not Vegas. They bank on the peer-pressure to sell a few more drinks. Anyway...so I'm peeing in a stall (as I can't pee in a urinal because of my condition) and the guy in the stall nwext to me is weeping. I'm talking BALLING. Even making that fun whaling noise.
Vegas.
I mean--what other city can take a few drinks and a deck of cards and beat someone down like the Jena 6?

10:56. I can't lie---talking business with female clients while there are the sillhouettes of two naked women dancing in front of you.


11:15. Back in my room. Yes, I wanted to be here two hours ago, but I guess I can make due. I've set my alarm for 5:20--as I've spent the last year telling anyone that will listen that running the strip at sunrise is one of the most surreal moments you'll ever experience. Never in your life have you seen a more deshevled mass of inhumanity...I genuinely can't wait.



Day One:
Total Drinks: 2

Total Gambled: N/A

Total # of Drinks consumed to fight off the shakes from not gambling: 2





6:20. Wednesday. SCUM SUCKING MOTHER F****** WHORE! I overslept for the first time in my entire life...RIGHT THROUGH MY ALARM.



6:22. I genuinely just asked myself if I have time for my jog, knowing I'm taking clients to play golf at 6:45.



6:29. I've lost the directions for the golf course--thank God for mobile internet.



6:46. Make it to the front only one minute late. (And yes, I do blame Caesars for this mistake. If the Air Conditioning hadn't been running at eleven levels past full-blast, trying to keep me gambling.)

...



Vegas.




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