wideman
Oct 20, 02, 9:29 am
Having been to Andorra and Sitka and Marrakesh and Nara but not Las Vegas, my life seemed somehow incomplete. This trip would be the remedy.
Getting There
BOS-LAX-LAS on UA (Y in E+), leaving at 11.40am, arriving in LAS at 4.45. Easy check-in was, in fact, easy (and deserted) and the flights were generally on-time and uneventful. The voyeuristic Channel 9, for me the best thing about flying on UA, lets me know why two planes cut in front of us before takeoff in BOS and why we touched down 20 mins after the pilots said we would in LAX. The lunch was, as others have reported, unspeakably bad. I had the cold chicken, which must have been cooked so wonderfully the first time that they cooked it a few more times. The guy in the window seat had the ‘pasta,’ some sort of tomatoey-cheese thing from which he took exactly one bite then made a nasty face.
Anyone concerned for their safety would have done well to stand in the aisle, for there was virtually no chance of being run over by any FA in that location. One exception was FA Judi, a woman of a certain age who, although not plump, managed to walk with a swinging motion that allowed her to bang customers on both sides of the aisle when she walked. Fortunately, she was never carrying anything,
The LAX-LAS flight was curious, not so much for the flight (which lacked E+ seating) as for the customer demographics. My planemates seemed to be split 50-50: half were superannuated cruise ship refugees looking forward to a happy weekend of gambling and smoking, and half were 20-something Cal State-Malibu rejects looking forward to a happy weekend of booze and sex.
The LAS airport is spread out and reasonably functional, complete with the extremely long walks that one has come to expect from airports in the western U.S. I was staying at Bally’s and knew from this board that the airport check-in was both faster and better for scoring HHonors upgrades than checking in at the hotel. Carolyne, the pleasant clerk, was efficient and provided an upgrade to a recently-renovated room. Carolyne was totally ibbobottled when I mentioned that the room number, 925, was a great number because it’s 3-squared followed by 5-squared, and the total of the digits is 4-squared, but I’ll chalk that up more to my geekiness than to any failing on Carolyne’s part.
Bay of Angels
Carolyne did a nice enough job: room 925 was spacious, new-looking, and had a marble bathroom. I wasted no time in quickly washing up and heading to the casino.
Some years ago, I saw a movie on cable TV where Jeanne Moreau played a woman in love with roulette and men, in that order. She met a (much) younger guy in Nice, they won a zillion dollars at the casino there, went to Monte Carlo and lost the zillion dollars, went back to Nice and won then lost a zillion more. I loved the movie, took a trip to Nice and Monte Carlo only to find that the Nice casino had been closed for 10 years (seems a few bodies washed up on the beach, and those running the casino were implicated). The movie, “Bay of Angels,” became hard to find here, but occasionally shows up in art houses. See it. Anyhow, the movie has permanently got me interested in roulette, and my choice of numbers is inspired directly by the ones that the Moreau character chose.
Disneyland with Tits
As mentioned, this was my first trip to Las Vegas. I’d seen pictures and movies, of course, but nothing really prepares one for the experience.
First off, it’s a shame that I’d wasted my time and money actually traveling around the world when it’s essentially all there on The Strip. The Rialto Bridge, the Eiffel Tower, the Great Pyramid, Pirate Ships, Roman Forum stuff (lots of Roman Forum stuff), all conveniently located and with hardly any of them foreigners.
Plus, lots of young bodies. In the casinos, on the streets, in the taxi line at the airport—lots of straps and lots of skin – it seemed extremely difficult to distinguish between whores and tourists. My impression of LV after 4 hours is that it’s Disneyland with Tits.
Room 925 offers an excellent view, not of the strip, but of whatever street the front of the Barbary Coast is on. The view is grittier than the strip, and that’s where the stories are.
The Flamingo has a huge neon sign with a message board proclaiming “See Why Strictly Slots Magazine voted The Flamingo Best Slots!!” Now, I will not claim omniscience about things magazinial, but I had no idea that the publication Strictly Slots Magazine existed. And my imagination cannot fathom what the journalistic content of such a periodical might be. Perhaps my local library will have a copy and I can catch up on things.
Limousines are the lingua franca of transportation in LV. My seatmate on the LAX-LAS flight was reading either a limousine magazine or one with lots of limo ads when he tried to strike up a conversation with me, asking why anyone would want to offer a limo with only 6 seats. I agreed, I couldn’t imagine such a thing. Anyhow, one limo outside the Barbary Coast advertised itself as “Exotic Limosine,” and I’ll admit to wondering what made that one exotic. I never found out.
Sunrise is eerie. The pinks and oranges of sunrise playing on the mountains competes with the pinks and oranges of flashing neon of the Flamingo, the Barbary Coast, and the 24-hour hot dog and beer shop. Not much of a contest, with the neon winning easily, though honorable mention goes to the sun’s first rays hitting the Great Pyramid.
Getting Back
17 hours in Las Vegas having satisfied my curiosity, the return to BOS retraced the previous day’s route (LAS-LAX-BOS), with the LAX-BOS leg in F. I checked in at the ticket counter to use a 1000-mile upgrade coupon (from the MP Visa), and the ticket counter agent was as clueless as I’ve ever seen. (Which is like saying that a guy is tall for a basketball player.) Again, the flights were uneventful, and again the aisles were generally free of traffic from FAs.
Employee class was full (an announcement made that no gate upgrades would be available), and at least 3 seats were filled by non-uniformed FAs. Lunch was better than I expected – both the seared tuna appetizer and the nut-crusted chicken on salad greens were prepared well. The shrimp paella also looked decent and seemed to have been gobbled down by those who ordered it, and the double-cheeseburger was of course the most revolting-looking thing imaginable. Honestly, they should pass out barf bags to everyone before prancing that item down the aisle. No Channel 9 on the flight, but life somehow went on.
In BOS, I again appreciated the relatively short walk from even the farthest-out gate to the terminal, I again despised MassPort for their vicious price-gouging at the garage, and I again enjoyed figuring out a new road pattern exiting from the garage.
--End--
[This message has been edited by wideman (edited 10-20-2002).]
Getting There
BOS-LAX-LAS on UA (Y in E+), leaving at 11.40am, arriving in LAS at 4.45. Easy check-in was, in fact, easy (and deserted) and the flights were generally on-time and uneventful. The voyeuristic Channel 9, for me the best thing about flying on UA, lets me know why two planes cut in front of us before takeoff in BOS and why we touched down 20 mins after the pilots said we would in LAX. The lunch was, as others have reported, unspeakably bad. I had the cold chicken, which must have been cooked so wonderfully the first time that they cooked it a few more times. The guy in the window seat had the ‘pasta,’ some sort of tomatoey-cheese thing from which he took exactly one bite then made a nasty face.
Anyone concerned for their safety would have done well to stand in the aisle, for there was virtually no chance of being run over by any FA in that location. One exception was FA Judi, a woman of a certain age who, although not plump, managed to walk with a swinging motion that allowed her to bang customers on both sides of the aisle when she walked. Fortunately, she was never carrying anything,
The LAX-LAS flight was curious, not so much for the flight (which lacked E+ seating) as for the customer demographics. My planemates seemed to be split 50-50: half were superannuated cruise ship refugees looking forward to a happy weekend of gambling and smoking, and half were 20-something Cal State-Malibu rejects looking forward to a happy weekend of booze and sex.
The LAS airport is spread out and reasonably functional, complete with the extremely long walks that one has come to expect from airports in the western U.S. I was staying at Bally’s and knew from this board that the airport check-in was both faster and better for scoring HHonors upgrades than checking in at the hotel. Carolyne, the pleasant clerk, was efficient and provided an upgrade to a recently-renovated room. Carolyne was totally ibbobottled when I mentioned that the room number, 925, was a great number because it’s 3-squared followed by 5-squared, and the total of the digits is 4-squared, but I’ll chalk that up more to my geekiness than to any failing on Carolyne’s part.
Bay of Angels
Carolyne did a nice enough job: room 925 was spacious, new-looking, and had a marble bathroom. I wasted no time in quickly washing up and heading to the casino.
Some years ago, I saw a movie on cable TV where Jeanne Moreau played a woman in love with roulette and men, in that order. She met a (much) younger guy in Nice, they won a zillion dollars at the casino there, went to Monte Carlo and lost the zillion dollars, went back to Nice and won then lost a zillion more. I loved the movie, took a trip to Nice and Monte Carlo only to find that the Nice casino had been closed for 10 years (seems a few bodies washed up on the beach, and those running the casino were implicated). The movie, “Bay of Angels,” became hard to find here, but occasionally shows up in art houses. See it. Anyhow, the movie has permanently got me interested in roulette, and my choice of numbers is inspired directly by the ones that the Moreau character chose.
Disneyland with Tits
As mentioned, this was my first trip to Las Vegas. I’d seen pictures and movies, of course, but nothing really prepares one for the experience.
First off, it’s a shame that I’d wasted my time and money actually traveling around the world when it’s essentially all there on The Strip. The Rialto Bridge, the Eiffel Tower, the Great Pyramid, Pirate Ships, Roman Forum stuff (lots of Roman Forum stuff), all conveniently located and with hardly any of them foreigners.
Plus, lots of young bodies. In the casinos, on the streets, in the taxi line at the airport—lots of straps and lots of skin – it seemed extremely difficult to distinguish between whores and tourists. My impression of LV after 4 hours is that it’s Disneyland with Tits.
Room 925 offers an excellent view, not of the strip, but of whatever street the front of the Barbary Coast is on. The view is grittier than the strip, and that’s where the stories are.
The Flamingo has a huge neon sign with a message board proclaiming “See Why Strictly Slots Magazine voted The Flamingo Best Slots!!” Now, I will not claim omniscience about things magazinial, but I had no idea that the publication Strictly Slots Magazine existed. And my imagination cannot fathom what the journalistic content of such a periodical might be. Perhaps my local library will have a copy and I can catch up on things.
Limousines are the lingua franca of transportation in LV. My seatmate on the LAX-LAS flight was reading either a limousine magazine or one with lots of limo ads when he tried to strike up a conversation with me, asking why anyone would want to offer a limo with only 6 seats. I agreed, I couldn’t imagine such a thing. Anyhow, one limo outside the Barbary Coast advertised itself as “Exotic Limosine,” and I’ll admit to wondering what made that one exotic. I never found out.
Sunrise is eerie. The pinks and oranges of sunrise playing on the mountains competes with the pinks and oranges of flashing neon of the Flamingo, the Barbary Coast, and the 24-hour hot dog and beer shop. Not much of a contest, with the neon winning easily, though honorable mention goes to the sun’s first rays hitting the Great Pyramid.
Getting Back
17 hours in Las Vegas having satisfied my curiosity, the return to BOS retraced the previous day’s route (LAS-LAX-BOS), with the LAX-BOS leg in F. I checked in at the ticket counter to use a 1000-mile upgrade coupon (from the MP Visa), and the ticket counter agent was as clueless as I’ve ever seen. (Which is like saying that a guy is tall for a basketball player.) Again, the flights were uneventful, and again the aisles were generally free of traffic from FAs.
Employee class was full (an announcement made that no gate upgrades would be available), and at least 3 seats were filled by non-uniformed FAs. Lunch was better than I expected – both the seared tuna appetizer and the nut-crusted chicken on salad greens were prepared well. The shrimp paella also looked decent and seemed to have been gobbled down by those who ordered it, and the double-cheeseburger was of course the most revolting-looking thing imaginable. Honestly, they should pass out barf bags to everyone before prancing that item down the aisle. No Channel 9 on the flight, but life somehow went on.
In BOS, I again appreciated the relatively short walk from even the farthest-out gate to the terminal, I again despised MassPort for their vicious price-gouging at the garage, and I again enjoyed figuring out a new road pattern exiting from the garage.
--End--
[This message has been edited by wideman (edited 10-20-2002).]