Look at me I’m pretty
By Royal Hopper
Picture your in Las Vegas. Nevada that is_ Sin City _ the town without a conscious. It’s noon and hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk (in the shade no less) and your dressed completely in black. You stop to take photos your tight black pants hugging your flouncing hips, Chantilly Lace wrappings trailing from your puffy sleeves as you once again traipse down the main byway of the City of Sin accompanied by a enchanting Gothic beauty in a black sun dress.
Chances are the effort you are putting forth to appear you wish to be left alone is complete BS. You want to be noticed and you are in fact in the right city. This city is so weird it takes a lot to get noticed here. People assume you one of the attraction or one of the drunks when you are different. However even if being noticed takes effort here we are geared to give people what they want. We find a way sometimes even if like the man in black lace you roll your eyes at the people
Peacocks and the people who ignore them
One of the great needs of people who visit this city is to be seen. I’ve called them Peacocks in this blog but whatever you call the drama queens of the world they all eventually find their way to this city to be seen.
I’ve seen just about every mode of dress that can be worn by human beings in this City of Sin but even a jaded old cynic like me was taken aback by the all black costumes of the two characters I saw strutting down the Strip this week. They put a great effort into pretending they didn’t’ want anyone noticing them as they pretended to be on some kind of black Preppie Goth photo shoot.
“Don’t’ look at me I’m working. No really look at me I’m stunning, don’t look at me. Do you think I look manly in black lace,” their body language seemed to say as they walked past one casino casting disdainful looks at passersby and the occasional security guard who was staring at them all the while glancing over a shoulder to make sure someone was watching them.
The woman wore a simple enough Gothic black Sun Dress. It was cut in all the right places kind of like a stripper who lost her costume on the way to work and had to make use of the black table cloth in her dressing room or an extra at a Rob Zombie concert.
The dude in this photo shoot, and I say that without any degree of certainty, wore a black knee length pant like ensemble…… and fashion cut shirt with black lace wrap arounds trailing in the wind as he waved his fancy camera which was not fancy incidentally pretending to be unconcerned at the people staring at him.
When is weird to weird
I’m an easy going guy but I tell you I felt an overwhelming urge to mug this couple and steal their clothes and their wallets and their cheap camera. Which didn’t look any fancier than the old D-100 I used at the Orange Leader so many years ago. (Well it was more like seven years ago) but she was working it like a stripper on a dance pole surrounded by drunk and amorous billionaire.
“Don’t notice me …okay look at me…I’m pretty and cool…I wear lots of black …notice me…”
This paradigm continued throughout the week with a repeat of a common Sin City Theme that occurs when a homely dude somehow manages to hook up with a hot chick, an occurrence I have spoke of before. Today I spotted a guy who was 5 foot 3 inches tops walking with a drop dead, knockout bathing beauty babe who wasn’t much shorter than me (I’m a shade under 6 foot 2 inches ) and man she was haawwwwwwtttt. He pretended to not notice people watching them as they crossed the street but every guy who saw this occur knows what was going through his mind.
“Hah ha I’m holding hands with a haaaawwwttt babe and your not…see me…see me..I’m short and homely and dress badly and my girlfriend is freakin hot …….People want what they want and this guy wanted to be seen with his hot girlfriend even if he had to duck his head to keep from bumping her generous breasts with his forehead as he walked.
As a follow up I’m guessing the chick who was seen jogging down the strip with in a black tights with ruffles hanging down from the legs wasn’t trying to blend in.
I need a drink and a cigarette
Lastly and more obviously people come to the city of Sin to gamble, drink and smoke. One gentleman who may have been homeless or just had low standards was seen walking from trash can to trash can picking the oversized themed plastic drink containers from the full cans and pour the remains of those fruity themed drinks in his personal container until he got enough to guzzle and then went on to his next round of cans. People want what they want and want it when they want it and this dude wanted a drink.
On the way to work one morning this week I spied a man sitting on the ground in front of a convenience store behind a sign advertising the store to all who cared or could still read at 5 a.m. in the City of Sin.
He was to well dressed to be homeless or appeared to be so and he wasn’t attempting to panhandle from the two or three people on that particular street at and didn’t look like he cared if anyone noticed him as he sat on the ground and occasionally rolled over to lay down. In fact the only thing he appeared to be interested in was the cigarette he was smoking. It was for the time being the center of his universe. It was what he wanted so he just stopped where he was sat down somewhere he could escape from the wind and smoked.
People want what they want and want it when they want it.
In closing I would like to bring up an old story. In my first week at the Mirage in 1989 there was a gentleman who was sure he could win at gambling if he just kept playing. He gambled away his life’s savings around $20,000, cashed in his first class ticket (which you could do at the time apparently) gambled that away and wired a friend for bus fare and was going to gamble that when we walked him out the door, perhaps for his own good perhaps to avoid doing it later when he was truly devoid of funds.
People want what they want and want it when they want it.
People who come to Las Vegas strictly to have fun generally do. Those who come seeking to conquer the world or the city generally don’t.
People do win; sometimes millions; I’ve seen it. However the odds always favor the house and even the pros who know what they are doing know when it is time to walk away with a story to tell their family and a plane ticket to get them there.
Such is life in the City of Sin
Until Next Week
Jogger report: uuuughh Lots of fat guys with no shirts on aaaahhhhhhhh