(view from our penthouse during sunset hours)
So, after about 72 hours together, it was time to head back to Stanford for that whole school/study/MBA thing. I had a very enjoyable time here - dividing it between eating, sleeping, watching shoes, and watching people gamble.
There are easily hundreds places to gamble in Vegas. And these places are huge. Some of the bigger casinos would have literally hundreds of different tables (Eg Blackjack, Roulette, etc) and thousands of slot machines. One of the things casinos also have – even though it actually doesn’t provide them lots of revenue (because the players divide the winnings, not the house) is poker. Each casino has lots of tables where anyone can come up and play Texas Hold’em, 24 hours a day, with a bunch of other strangers in the question to win (or lose) hundreds to thousands of dollars. And, while you do it, free drinks and food (spectators included!).
Poker has become a glamourised sport – and I actually really enjoy playing it (but not for money – even though that does add another dimension!). But, one night, as I watched some of my friends play at 4am at the crappy hotel we were staying in (Imperial Palace), I realized that it is a symbol of Vegas, and not a very happy symbol at all.
At my table was your usual collection of Vegas gamblers: a few young guns (like my friends) who were in town for a weekend with mates and were putting a few bucks down as part of the fun. But then there were society’s misfits: elderly men looking for a bit of luck, young guys in their twenties with strange haircuts and awkward social skills but who could play a bit of a poker (though possibly not much else?); a collection of overweight men in their 40s and 50s for whom “Sin City” Vegas provided a little hope, a little solace ...
We were being served by Olga: an Eastern European migrant whose English skills were limited – but who did her best to smile and earn a poker chip or two for a tip. The house dealers themselves fitted right in: middle aged men wearing cheap suits with a dry sense of humour and a fast hand; they were part of the furniture too, long-term employees of this city; part of the system.
What kind of city is this? Glamour on the outside, pain on the inside.
It is indeed a strange world.
1 comment:
Sad... your expression says it all..
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