A week in the burbs and drunken confusion returns to Sin City

I took a few days off this week and fled to suburbs to visit ( as we say in the south) with my mother who was in town and to drink coffee and watch sci fi and Gothic reruns (sue me Im a nerd…”



A dusty portion of my dragon statue collection
absolute proof Royal is a Nerd..Photo by Royal

Even in the suburbs there are people who talk to themselves like the gentleman I saw walking down a suburban Las Vegas area street shouting something about “old White people…” being about white as you can get and having just turned 50-years-of-age needless to say I left that particular dangerous looking gentleman be.
I discovered in my brief isolation in my suburban sanctuary that now and then tourist and denizens of the City of Sin do find their way out to the burbs where they look even more lost than they do in the confines of Sin City.
“Where are the naked people and the occasional drunk laying on the sidewalk and the two for one cheap drink specials, the people in strange costumes, the hookers who call themselves private dancers, ( when I was younger and better looking they always wanted to tell me their life stories go figure)  the hordes of clueless picture taking tourist and the hustlers trying to sell them tickets they can get for free two blocks down the road”
Then you tell them that that this is the suburbs and there are no such things here and they run screaming down the street.
 “The suburbs that bastard dropped me in the wrong place, the suburbs…ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh……”
 My mother who is 69 this year bought me a tank of gas and my wife and I took the opportunity to go power walking aright the pain…all nerds and geeks everywhere send me your energy to preserve my sanity.
A week in the burbs makes you appreciate the great things about living in Sin City like all the great intellects you meet.
The 20-year-old trust fund brats who get angry because you allowed them to hire an escort named after a forest animal or tasty desert or seasoning ( Candy, Bambi, or Jasmine Lotus) from an ad in a flyer handed out by people from Seattle with green hair who haven’t bathed in days and then allowed them to get rolled by self same prostitutes after they have been charged $400 for a bottle of apple juice that is drugged.
In the good old days it was common for taxi drivers to drop naïve tourist at bars colloquially called clip joints where tourist would be seduced into buying $1,200 bottles of champagne that was actually grape juice and end up being dumped unceremoniously at their hotel doorway without getting lucky or even truly drunk.
Good things like people shout “Vegas,” in creepy sounding tones while stumbling down the street in a drunken stupor as many this week seemed prone to do. People who live here don’t shout Vegas it is just too silly.
Thegenius’ that will scream loser at random strangers who have different haircuts than they do or get drunk and make passes at other guys dressed in latex naked lady costumes.
This actually happened in the mid 90s at Treasure Island hotel casino.
  Good things like the lady who asked “Do you know where I can get some groceries?” “There are groceries stores down the street and several convenience stores on the strip,” I answered if memory serves. “You have stores here???” she said. “Yeah and schools and gas stations too,” I said as politely as I could manage. “Wow,” was the answer I got in return.
In the suburbs you get dog parks, dog park etiquette, teen age drivers, 24 hour fast food as opposed to 24 hour gambling and lots and lots of TV.


A photo of a Pinball hall of fame---sue me I was in the burbs most of the week


Today I went back to work and in the first hour we found two men lying drunk on the floor one at the bottom of an escalator, a drunken domestic argument where a guest wanted to kick the woman who was sleeping with his roommate and maybe his girlfriend too. Good things like the man passed out drunk in the seat of a slot machine with his hand on the handle and his head in his own lap and the gentleman counting a large wads of $100 bills on the table top by the security booth looking around and occasionally over his shoulder smelling of alcohol and newly purchased $500 T-shirts
A man discovered on the floor at the bottom of the escalator asked if he fell down the escalator said “escalator????” and a half empty whiskey bottle shattered into large dangerous pieces in a high traffic area eight feet from a trash can.
                                                                                      

You just gotta love this city
After all such is life in the City of Sin again
Til Next Week
Take Care