Vegas in the the spring
Mar 23, 2000 | 9:17 am
#1
Original Poster
Original Member
Join Date: May 1998
Location: Kirkland, WA
Posts: 6,932
Vegas in the the spring
Three years, less a day
We put the top down in the Pontiac for the short drive from Marina del Rey to LAX. Using the three-letter code LAX for Los Angeles International Airport is so much a matter of course that when we reached the road sign pointing the way to “LA Airport” it seemed wrong, somehow, to refer to it that way. What a pleasure to wake up to the sun every morning, the air warm on your cheek, the smell of rice pilaf in the air. California smells like rice pilaf.
I pulled up outside Terminal 1 for the short flight on America West. My policy is always to fly United unless they are uncompetitive with price or they are flying the Shuttle on the route. United lost on both counts this trip. The America West fare was $83 round trip including taxes and the convenient flights on UA were $121. Plus I’m not enamored, and Hunnybear is not enamoured, with UA’s policy of giving only actual miles on Shuttle flights. Since it’s just a short hop to Vegas, I’m not missing more than a few hundred status miles by flying HP.
According to my statement, my last flight on America West was March 23, 1997. That means that today, March 22, 2000, was the last possible day to fly America West and avoid having my 18.000+ miles expire. Talk about leaving things till the last minute!
Because I wanted to ride with Hunnybear before she went to work, we arrived over 90 minutes before flight time. I had no trouble checking in at the regular old line, but when I asked “Are there any upgrades available?” The lackluster clerk told me I had to be Silver. I asked if there was any other way to upgrade and he said no, then corrected himself—“You could be Gold, or Platinum…” I thanked him and took seat 14D.
With so much time before the flight I decided to walk across the airport to Terminal 7 and the United Red Carpet Club. The LAX RCC is just beautiful. While they still don’t have any protein snacks in the morning, The place has so many desks and telephones that it could as a set for a secretarial fetish film. I plugged in and read FlyerTalk until close to flight time. When I hiked back across the parking garage to Terminal 1 I got selected for a laptop screening. Fortunately it passed. I arrived at gate 13 and tried a line I think I stole from a fellow FlyerTalker: “I’d like to volunteer to sit in First Class in case you need to sell any more coach seats.” This brought a smile and the clerk, a much friendlier Hispanic girl, leaned close to me and said with a grin, “We’re not fully booked.” So I said on United Airlines I’m King, but here I ain’t nothing.. She said I had to be Silver. I asked sweetly if she didn’t think she could comp me to Silver, just for the day. There was a brief pause.
“I’ll see what I can do. Why don’t you—”
“I’ll just hang out here and I won’t bug you.”
Sure enough, right after final boarding call, she called over to her colleague, “Cuantas personas hay in primera clase?” “Seven.” “Dále el seńor bla bla bla bla.” My Spanish was rusty but I knew what that meant. I gave heartfelt thanks to both agents and claimed seat 1C in the old 737. We were delayed 20 minutes on the ground for loading more cargo.
Service on this flight was superior to United Shuttle. There was a choice of snacks: an elongated doughnut in plastic wrap, trail mix, or honey-roasted almonds. I had three packets of almonds and a club soda in a glass glass. The plane had the old video-game units that haven’t worked for years. The stewardess told me that America West was not allowed to remove them for ages because of tied-up bankruptcy-court proceedings with the company that produced them. Now, she said, they were gradually removing them.
We arrived at Terminal B in Las Vegas where Jeffrey met me with a big smile. We got a Smarte Carte for $2 and took the long hike to the taxi stand. A charming old Italian gentleman took us to the Monte Carlo, where I was staying for the excellent rate of free, for $13 including tip. The clerk there found a strip-view room on a high floor for me, but it wasn’t clean yet so I dropped my stuff off in Jeffrey’s room.
Lunch today was at the buffet at the Las Vegas Hilton, soon to no longer be called a Hilton according to the staff there. Perhaps they will change the name back to the International. The lunch buffet ($8.99) was unremarkable with poor selection and mediocre quality.
I played a few hands of the special “Wheel of Dreams” blackjack, where every time you hit blackjack you get to spin a wheel that pays 10 to 1000 times your one-dollar side bet. I hit a 20, a 12, and a 10, but not the vaunted 1000, and ended up ahead $40.
We decided to have dinner in the Monte Carlo hotel steakhouse, Blackstone’s. We got a booth on the side in this pleasant, average little place. The highlight of the meal was a nice inexpensive St.-Emillion. We started with escargot, which came cooked right but with not enough garlic in the butter. A Caesar salad was nothing special. Jeffrey’s New York steak was superb but arrived too rare and needed to be sent back, while my veal chop was tasty but very fatty near the bone With all the great steakhouses in Las Vegas I wouldn’t pick this one.
After dinner we went to see Lance Burton, also in the Monte Carlo. This was the best magic show I’ve ever seen. Trick after trick was astounding. Birds appeared, girls disappeared—and he liked to work with kids from the audience, which was a big hit. A highly recommended. 90-minute show which, at $49, is almost a bargain in Vegas.
We put the top down in the Pontiac for the short drive from Marina del Rey to LAX. Using the three-letter code LAX for Los Angeles International Airport is so much a matter of course that when we reached the road sign pointing the way to “LA Airport” it seemed wrong, somehow, to refer to it that way. What a pleasure to wake up to the sun every morning, the air warm on your cheek, the smell of rice pilaf in the air. California smells like rice pilaf.
I pulled up outside Terminal 1 for the short flight on America West. My policy is always to fly United unless they are uncompetitive with price or they are flying the Shuttle on the route. United lost on both counts this trip. The America West fare was $83 round trip including taxes and the convenient flights on UA were $121. Plus I’m not enamored, and Hunnybear is not enamoured, with UA’s policy of giving only actual miles on Shuttle flights. Since it’s just a short hop to Vegas, I’m not missing more than a few hundred status miles by flying HP.
According to my statement, my last flight on America West was March 23, 1997. That means that today, March 22, 2000, was the last possible day to fly America West and avoid having my 18.000+ miles expire. Talk about leaving things till the last minute!
Because I wanted to ride with Hunnybear before she went to work, we arrived over 90 minutes before flight time. I had no trouble checking in at the regular old line, but when I asked “Are there any upgrades available?” The lackluster clerk told me I had to be Silver. I asked if there was any other way to upgrade and he said no, then corrected himself—“You could be Gold, or Platinum…” I thanked him and took seat 14D.
With so much time before the flight I decided to walk across the airport to Terminal 7 and the United Red Carpet Club. The LAX RCC is just beautiful. While they still don’t have any protein snacks in the morning, The place has so many desks and telephones that it could as a set for a secretarial fetish film. I plugged in and read FlyerTalk until close to flight time. When I hiked back across the parking garage to Terminal 1 I got selected for a laptop screening. Fortunately it passed. I arrived at gate 13 and tried a line I think I stole from a fellow FlyerTalker: “I’d like to volunteer to sit in First Class in case you need to sell any more coach seats.” This brought a smile and the clerk, a much friendlier Hispanic girl, leaned close to me and said with a grin, “We’re not fully booked.” So I said on United Airlines I’m King, but here I ain’t nothing.. She said I had to be Silver. I asked sweetly if she didn’t think she could comp me to Silver, just for the day. There was a brief pause.
“I’ll see what I can do. Why don’t you—”
“I’ll just hang out here and I won’t bug you.”
Sure enough, right after final boarding call, she called over to her colleague, “Cuantas personas hay in primera clase?” “Seven.” “Dále el seńor bla bla bla bla.” My Spanish was rusty but I knew what that meant. I gave heartfelt thanks to both agents and claimed seat 1C in the old 737. We were delayed 20 minutes on the ground for loading more cargo.
Service on this flight was superior to United Shuttle. There was a choice of snacks: an elongated doughnut in plastic wrap, trail mix, or honey-roasted almonds. I had three packets of almonds and a club soda in a glass glass. The plane had the old video-game units that haven’t worked for years. The stewardess told me that America West was not allowed to remove them for ages because of tied-up bankruptcy-court proceedings with the company that produced them. Now, she said, they were gradually removing them.
We arrived at Terminal B in Las Vegas where Jeffrey met me with a big smile. We got a Smarte Carte for $2 and took the long hike to the taxi stand. A charming old Italian gentleman took us to the Monte Carlo, where I was staying for the excellent rate of free, for $13 including tip. The clerk there found a strip-view room on a high floor for me, but it wasn’t clean yet so I dropped my stuff off in Jeffrey’s room.
Lunch today was at the buffet at the Las Vegas Hilton, soon to no longer be called a Hilton according to the staff there. Perhaps they will change the name back to the International. The lunch buffet ($8.99) was unremarkable with poor selection and mediocre quality.
I played a few hands of the special “Wheel of Dreams” blackjack, where every time you hit blackjack you get to spin a wheel that pays 10 to 1000 times your one-dollar side bet. I hit a 20, a 12, and a 10, but not the vaunted 1000, and ended up ahead $40.
We decided to have dinner in the Monte Carlo hotel steakhouse, Blackstone’s. We got a booth on the side in this pleasant, average little place. The highlight of the meal was a nice inexpensive St.-Emillion. We started with escargot, which came cooked right but with not enough garlic in the butter. A Caesar salad was nothing special. Jeffrey’s New York steak was superb but arrived too rare and needed to be sent back, while my veal chop was tasty but very fatty near the bone With all the great steakhouses in Las Vegas I wouldn’t pick this one.
After dinner we went to see Lance Burton, also in the Monte Carlo. This was the best magic show I’ve ever seen. Trick after trick was astounding. Birds appeared, girls disappeared—and he liked to work with kids from the audience, which was a big hit. A highly recommended. 90-minute show which, at $49, is almost a bargain in Vegas.
Mar 23, 2000 | 9:54 am
#2
Join Date: Jan 1999
Location: Chicago, IL (ORD)
Programs: AA Gold, UA Premier Exec, Starwood Gold, Marriott Silver
Posts: 1,100
Great report so far, QL!
A small OMNI note: Lance Burton is one of the best shows for the buck in Vegas, I went to see him my first time in Vegas when he was at the (now demolished) Hacienda & his ticket price was $35. Glad to hear your up money-wise so far!
------------------
Regards,
- Anna
A small OMNI note: Lance Burton is one of the best shows for the buck in Vegas, I went to see him my first time in Vegas when he was at the (now demolished) Hacienda & his ticket price was $35. Glad to hear your up money-wise so far!
------------------
Regards,
- Anna
Mar 24, 2000 | 2:43 am
#6
Original Poster
Original Member
Join Date: May 1998
Location: Kirkland, WA
Posts: 6,932
dgolds, I used my HP number to avoid losing 18,000+ miles...I needed one transaction every three years.
The weather co0uld not be more perfect in LAS. What a great time we had. More in the morning...
The weather co0uld not be more perfect in LAS. What a great time we had. More in the morning...
Mar 24, 2000 | 8:11 am
#7
Original Poster
Original Member
Join Date: May 1998
Location: Kirkland, WA
Posts: 6,932
Picasso
It was a stunning morning in Las Vegas. Lying in bed at the Monte Carlo I could see the Eiffel Tower across the street cutting through a perfectly clear blue sky painted over the desert mountains behind it. The mission for the day was to get my hair cut. Jeffrey’s wife Teresa went to the airport to greet her friend Carol, so Jeffrey and I went down to the Monte Carlo buffet to have breakfast. This was another uninspired Vegas buffet without much to recommend it. I had some oily scrambled eggs and a syrupy crepe. They did bring a whole pot of decaf to the table, which I appreciated.
We found the girls, but by then they were hungry, so we left them at the café and headed over to the Venetian to reserve our seats for the André-Philippe Gagnon show that evening. We got a table for four behind the first railing for $75 each. Yesterday I had called my Starwood Platinum personal concierge Pamela to see if she could get us in to the hottest restaurant in town, Picasso at the Bellagio. Sure enough she was able to cajole them to find a table for us So we had the evening all lined up.
Jeffrey and I played some Empire slots, the one where the gorilla climbs up the Empire State Building, then headed back to prepare for his seminar. The taxi situation was abysmal. I remembered why I always rent a car in Las Vegas. We spent as much time waiting for taxis and waiting in traffic as doing anything else today.
Soon it was time to see the show, so we cabbed it back over to the Venetian and arrived with ten minutes to spare. The André-Philippe Gagnon show is in the trendy C2K nightclub at the Venetian. Hostesses wear backless black jumpsuits with short shorts and long hair. We waited a long time to get our drink order, then I got served a Manhattan in a wine glass. I protested and compromised on a rocks glass. Still, it’s not the same. The performer did a number of singing impressions of famous artists such as Mick Jagger, Lou Rawls, and Sting, strung together by a series of stale jokes. I left after 10 minutes and played some Pai Gow Poker. On my way out I had them take the glassless Manhattan off the bill, noting that at $75 a ticket I expected a martini glass. I inquired about the refund policy for tickets and was told there wasn’t one.
I played an hour of Pai Gow Poker to no great effect other than enjoying the company of the great staff at the Venetian. I think the friendliest crews on the Strip work here. When the show was over the others found me and we went to wait in the taxi line to get ourselves over to Bellagio.
The good thing about arriving by cab is that you get to go in the grand front entrance. We walked in under the $3 million Dale Chihuly glass sculpture and gaped at the grandness of the flower and earthenware gallery behind the front desk. I asked the concierge how to get to Picasso. Like directions to anywhere in Vegas, it began with “You go through the casino…” We descended an escalator leading to a charming high-ceilinged room with a full picture-window wall looking out on the fountain lake and Paris across the street. The walls were covered by many original Picasso paintings, hence the name, and these paintings were much more impressive than the poor selection at the Picasso museum in Paris! The general manager greeted me and welcomed me to his restaurant. I thanked him sincerely for juggling reservations to get us in.
The meal was phenomenal if pricey. I got the four-course tasting menu ($85) and we shared two of the suggested flight of wines ($48 each). There are few choices on the menu so if you are not an adventurous eater this may not be the place for you. My menu started with a generous helping of superbly sweet lobster meat accompanied by a German white wine. Next was a large seared sea scallop, served with a Pinot Gris. Along with all of this was a delicious assortment of breads and crackers. The third course was a huge helping of seared foie gras that I devoured with the aid of some dark olive bread and the Alsace white wine that came with it. Finally two perfect medallions of lamb arrived (Carol chose the snapper instead, the one option on the tasting menu) accompanied by a rather oaky French red that I didn’t care for.
As a rule I don’t eat dessert, but they had profiteroles so I forced myself. They were filled with ice cream rather than frozen custard but I didn’t complain. Dinner for the four of us came to $468 before tip. This place definitely lived up to its reputation as one of the finest dining experiences in Las Vegas. Every fifteen minutes the fountains lit up and did their dance as the night melted away.
We poured ourselves into a taxi and headed back to the Monte Carlo to play a little blackjack. I wanted a bottle of water but a half-hour went by with no waitress service. This was one of those casinos where the pit crew was no help at all trying to summon a waitress, and by the time one came I was ready for bed. Since we were getting the excellent rate of free for this hotel stay I can’t complain too much—suffice it to say that I see no reason ever to set foot in the Monte Carlo again.
It was a stunning morning in Las Vegas. Lying in bed at the Monte Carlo I could see the Eiffel Tower across the street cutting through a perfectly clear blue sky painted over the desert mountains behind it. The mission for the day was to get my hair cut. Jeffrey’s wife Teresa went to the airport to greet her friend Carol, so Jeffrey and I went down to the Monte Carlo buffet to have breakfast. This was another uninspired Vegas buffet without much to recommend it. I had some oily scrambled eggs and a syrupy crepe. They did bring a whole pot of decaf to the table, which I appreciated.
We found the girls, but by then they were hungry, so we left them at the café and headed over to the Venetian to reserve our seats for the André-Philippe Gagnon show that evening. We got a table for four behind the first railing for $75 each. Yesterday I had called my Starwood Platinum personal concierge Pamela to see if she could get us in to the hottest restaurant in town, Picasso at the Bellagio. Sure enough she was able to cajole them to find a table for us So we had the evening all lined up.
Jeffrey and I played some Empire slots, the one where the gorilla climbs up the Empire State Building, then headed back to prepare for his seminar. The taxi situation was abysmal. I remembered why I always rent a car in Las Vegas. We spent as much time waiting for taxis and waiting in traffic as doing anything else today.
Soon it was time to see the show, so we cabbed it back over to the Venetian and arrived with ten minutes to spare. The André-Philippe Gagnon show is in the trendy C2K nightclub at the Venetian. Hostesses wear backless black jumpsuits with short shorts and long hair. We waited a long time to get our drink order, then I got served a Manhattan in a wine glass. I protested and compromised on a rocks glass. Still, it’s not the same. The performer did a number of singing impressions of famous artists such as Mick Jagger, Lou Rawls, and Sting, strung together by a series of stale jokes. I left after 10 minutes and played some Pai Gow Poker. On my way out I had them take the glassless Manhattan off the bill, noting that at $75 a ticket I expected a martini glass. I inquired about the refund policy for tickets and was told there wasn’t one.
I played an hour of Pai Gow Poker to no great effect other than enjoying the company of the great staff at the Venetian. I think the friendliest crews on the Strip work here. When the show was over the others found me and we went to wait in the taxi line to get ourselves over to Bellagio.
The good thing about arriving by cab is that you get to go in the grand front entrance. We walked in under the $3 million Dale Chihuly glass sculpture and gaped at the grandness of the flower and earthenware gallery behind the front desk. I asked the concierge how to get to Picasso. Like directions to anywhere in Vegas, it began with “You go through the casino…” We descended an escalator leading to a charming high-ceilinged room with a full picture-window wall looking out on the fountain lake and Paris across the street. The walls were covered by many original Picasso paintings, hence the name, and these paintings were much more impressive than the poor selection at the Picasso museum in Paris! The general manager greeted me and welcomed me to his restaurant. I thanked him sincerely for juggling reservations to get us in.
The meal was phenomenal if pricey. I got the four-course tasting menu ($85) and we shared two of the suggested flight of wines ($48 each). There are few choices on the menu so if you are not an adventurous eater this may not be the place for you. My menu started with a generous helping of superbly sweet lobster meat accompanied by a German white wine. Next was a large seared sea scallop, served with a Pinot Gris. Along with all of this was a delicious assortment of breads and crackers. The third course was a huge helping of seared foie gras that I devoured with the aid of some dark olive bread and the Alsace white wine that came with it. Finally two perfect medallions of lamb arrived (Carol chose the snapper instead, the one option on the tasting menu) accompanied by a rather oaky French red that I didn’t care for.
As a rule I don’t eat dessert, but they had profiteroles so I forced myself. They were filled with ice cream rather than frozen custard but I didn’t complain. Dinner for the four of us came to $468 before tip. This place definitely lived up to its reputation as one of the finest dining experiences in Las Vegas. Every fifteen minutes the fountains lit up and did their dance as the night melted away.
We poured ourselves into a taxi and headed back to the Monte Carlo to play a little blackjack. I wanted a bottle of water but a half-hour went by with no waitress service. This was one of those casinos where the pit crew was no help at all trying to summon a waitress, and by the time one came I was ready for bed. Since we were getting the excellent rate of free for this hotel stay I can’t complain too much—suffice it to say that I see no reason ever to set foot in the Monte Carlo again.
Mar 24, 2000 | 11:53 am
#9
Join Date: Feb 1999
Location: New York, NY, AA 4MM PLT, BA Gold, VS Gold, Hilton Gold, SPG Gold, Marriott Gold, Hyatt Platinum, IHG Platinum, CC Gold
Posts: 1,099
Great report QuietLion.
I'm amazed that you managed to get an upgrade with no status on America West. Kudos!
I'm amazed that you managed to get an upgrade with no status on America West. Kudos!
Mar 25, 2000 | 9:08 am
#10
Original Poster
Original Member
Join Date: May 1998
Location: Kirkland, WA
Posts: 6,932
The Ritz: now that’s a hotel!
I used the video checkout to make a hasty exit from the Monte Carlo (75˘ local calls) and met Jeffrey and Teresa down in the lobby. We cabbed over to the airport and dropped Teresa over at Alaska then proceeded to America West where we used the curbside checkin. We went up to the America West club and asked for upgrades. The agent there, Virginia, was among the nicest airline employees I’ve ever met. Jeffrey had Gold status on Continental due to his AmEx Centurion card but the status didn’t show in the system. Amazingly, a quick call to Centurion resulted in Gold status immediately showing up on the America West computer system. We got upgraded to seats 4C and D on the 757 to LAX.
The America West club had some Baby Bel cheese, bagels, and muffins, but no decaf coffee. After a bit we headed toward the gate and stopped at Burger King for an overpriced Whopper. The flight was delayed a half-hour or so but then we had nice drink service from a beautiful young stewardess named Kelly. We landed in LAX about half an hour late and took a cab to the Ritz-Carlton, across the street from Hunnybear’s and my apartment. Like all Ritz-Carltons, this was a first-class hotel. No rooms were available for Jeffrey on the concierge floor so he took a room on a low floor with club access programmed into his key. We spent the rest of the day camped out in the concierge lounge, eating fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookies and drinking complimentary wine.
The concierge lounge at Ritz-Carlton is truly amazing. They have five different spreads a day: breakfast, light lunch salads with giant fresh-baked cookies, afternoon tea with the famous fresh-baked scones, cocktail hors d’ouvres, and desserts and chocolates with a fine liqueur selection. This is all complimentary for a club-level room.
After Jeffrey got settled I took him for his first-ever walk up the Strand of Venice beach. If anybody wanted evidence that Southern California is full of nuts, they should just come here. Grizzled hippies mixed with Baywatch models and tourists from all over the world passed by speaking strange unknown languages as the sun set over the Pacific. We ended up in Santa Monica and headed for the Third St. Promenade, another of my favorite scenes down here. The Santa Monica Place mall was full of teenage girls awaiting the start of a free concert by a pop band. We passed through and sat down outdoors at Matisse, a French restaurant on the Promenade, watching the people walk by and listening to a street musician play some phenomenal lead guitar at low volume while we waited for Hunnybear.
When she showed up we retrieved my Pontiac then returned to the Ritz for some free drinks before dinner. Jeffrey loves the local chain Jerry’s Deli, so we went there and had some mile-high sandwiches. After dinner I was ready to crash, mostly from all the carbos I’d been eating. Oh, and I did get my haircut, at my favorite place in Vegas, Studio 15 at Bally’s. Ask for Mark.
The end.
I used the video checkout to make a hasty exit from the Monte Carlo (75˘ local calls) and met Jeffrey and Teresa down in the lobby. We cabbed over to the airport and dropped Teresa over at Alaska then proceeded to America West where we used the curbside checkin. We went up to the America West club and asked for upgrades. The agent there, Virginia, was among the nicest airline employees I’ve ever met. Jeffrey had Gold status on Continental due to his AmEx Centurion card but the status didn’t show in the system. Amazingly, a quick call to Centurion resulted in Gold status immediately showing up on the America West computer system. We got upgraded to seats 4C and D on the 757 to LAX.
The America West club had some Baby Bel cheese, bagels, and muffins, but no decaf coffee. After a bit we headed toward the gate and stopped at Burger King for an overpriced Whopper. The flight was delayed a half-hour or so but then we had nice drink service from a beautiful young stewardess named Kelly. We landed in LAX about half an hour late and took a cab to the Ritz-Carlton, across the street from Hunnybear’s and my apartment. Like all Ritz-Carltons, this was a first-class hotel. No rooms were available for Jeffrey on the concierge floor so he took a room on a low floor with club access programmed into his key. We spent the rest of the day camped out in the concierge lounge, eating fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookies and drinking complimentary wine.
The concierge lounge at Ritz-Carlton is truly amazing. They have five different spreads a day: breakfast, light lunch salads with giant fresh-baked cookies, afternoon tea with the famous fresh-baked scones, cocktail hors d’ouvres, and desserts and chocolates with a fine liqueur selection. This is all complimentary for a club-level room.
After Jeffrey got settled I took him for his first-ever walk up the Strand of Venice beach. If anybody wanted evidence that Southern California is full of nuts, they should just come here. Grizzled hippies mixed with Baywatch models and tourists from all over the world passed by speaking strange unknown languages as the sun set over the Pacific. We ended up in Santa Monica and headed for the Third St. Promenade, another of my favorite scenes down here. The Santa Monica Place mall was full of teenage girls awaiting the start of a free concert by a pop band. We passed through and sat down outdoors at Matisse, a French restaurant on the Promenade, watching the people walk by and listening to a street musician play some phenomenal lead guitar at low volume while we waited for Hunnybear.
When she showed up we retrieved my Pontiac then returned to the Ritz for some free drinks before dinner. Jeffrey loves the local chain Jerry’s Deli, so we went there and had some mile-high sandwiches. After dinner I was ready to crash, mostly from all the carbos I’d been eating. Oh, and I did get my haircut, at my favorite place in Vegas, Studio 15 at Bally’s. Ask for Mark.
The end.
Mar 25, 2000 | 10:07 am
#11
Join Date: Jul 1999
Location: SEA
Posts: 3,178
The best people watching in the world is on the Venice Beach Strand...
The best line I ever heard about So. Cal. was from comedian Gallagher.
"Living in So. Calif. is like living in a bowl of granola...after you get past the fruits & nuts, all that's left are flakes."
If anybody wanted evidence that Southern California is full of nuts, they should just come here. Grizzled hippies mixed with Baywatch models and tourists from all over the world passed by speaking strange unknown languages as the sun set over the Pacific.
"Living in So. Calif. is like living in a bowl of granola...after you get past the fruits & nuts, all that's left are flakes."