Las Vegas, Nevada — home to good times and great memories. Or is it…?
In This Las Vegas Article You Will Discover:
- What’s Not Fun About Las Vegas
- The People You’ll Meet in Sin City
- Pitfalls To Watch Out For
- And More!
Let me start by saying Las Vegas, Nevada, is home to wonderful restaurants, fun bars and lounges, amazing shows, great weather and I have personally had some really good times there. (A bachelor party in Las Vegas should be on any guy’s Bucket List.)
But that doesn’t excuse all manner of sins.
Since Las Vegas is not only a hub for entertainment, but for business, I find myself visiting Sin City at least once per year. Recently, I completed my 12th visit to Vegas.
So with that in mind, I’ve compiled 7 Reasons Why I Hate Las Vegas. (Lucky seven, I suppose…)
1. Sweat-Suit Grannies
Despite visions you may have of nouveau Rat Pack-types roaming casinos in tilted fedoras and tailored suits, the Sweat-Suit Granny is by far the most prevalent creature in Las Vegas. Suited head-to-toe in stretchy cotton and sporting an overstuffed fanny pack, this white-haired, diminutive casino dweller spends her day exchanging seats at the all-you-can-eat buffet and the nickel slots — all the while shooting scornful glances toward your disreputable behaviour. Talk about a buzz-kill.
Slot machines no longer cha-ching out coins like they used to — winners (scoff) receive vouchers for their monies, which they can re-insert or take to the cashier. However, the infernal one-armed bandits still make a phony, electronic “ding-ding-ding” when winnings are paid out. That is in tandem with the “beep-beep-beepity” on every turn, and the “doop-doop-doop-doopdoopdoopdoop” when credits are won. Now imagine these sounds — times a-million. It is an inescapable racket that haunts my dreams for weeks upon my return.
3. Cigarette Smoke
It is everywhere. You reek of it. Your clothes reek of it. Your hair reeks of it. The casinos are swimming in it. Even the outside air reeks of it. Camels, cigarillos, cigars, menthols… you name it, someone is smoking it. Your throat is dry and your lungs hoarse. Just… want… to… breathe…
4. Air Freshener
Perhaps even worse than the cigarette smoke is the overpowering, phony, carcinogenic air freshener most casinos pump into their ventilation systems to mask it and every other smell emanating from the populous. (The Venetian is by far the worse offender, I cannot breathe in that casino…) For someone like me, who values fresh air, these perfumes make it feel as if every breath is poison. Automobile exhaust is refreshing by comparison.
5. Fake Big Shots
The Las Vegas dream is sold on the idea that everyone who visits gets to act like a “Big Shot” — like a reality TV star or a hip-hop icon. Basically — like someone they are not. And believe me, Vegas can make this happen for you. You want VIP bottle service at the hottest club in town? You got it. Twenty-four-hour concierge? Yours. Chef’s table at a five-star restaurant? No problem. Just one tiny catch… you have to pay through the nose for all of it. For example — VIP bottle service at a popular nightclub will see you paying $400 or more for a $50 bottle of vodka. You feel like a Big Shot, sure — and your “underlings” laugh all the way to the bank. Then, when you’re out of money… you’re out of prestige. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out, chump.
6. Unnecessary Tipping
Don’t start with me! I’m not cheap — I happily tip for service. I always tip restaurant servers, my hairdresser, deliverymen, you name it — if I receive service, I tip. In Las Vegas, though, it’s taken too far. For example: did you know it is illegal for a taxi to stop for you if you flag it down? No, instead, you must have someone call you one, or use the taxi valet in front of most hotels — and for that, you gotta tip out. Every time. And don’t even try to give them a buck, cheapskate. For the legally-required service of blowing a whistle to a taxicab that sits in-wait mere metres from the hotel entrance, the expected tip is $3 to $10. …Sigh… And on it goes.
Anyone who has been to Las Vegas will know immediately what I’m talking about here. The “Card Snapper” — men and women on the street who try to force business cards for prostitutes into your hands every time you walk past. They snap them against their palms; the hundreds of them creating a cacophony like some perverted cricket orchestra. You find yourself constantly muttering “no, thanks…” over and over again as you make your way down the Strip. No matter how many times you pass them, and say no, they still stick these cards in your face. Snap-snap-snap! (PS: Despite what many people believe, prostitution is, in fact, illegal in Las Vegas.)
Whew. OK — now, about those awesome restaurants…