Dear People of Las Vegas....

ed. note.  Ok, so I wrote this early in the morning, pre-coffee, and I may have been a bit grumpy.
Maybe.  
Possibly.
But not necessarily.
*ed. note part II.  Ms. X has informed me that there is an awful lot of "curse" words in this post and that's not really a nice thing to post "curse" words on the inter-tubes where The Baby Jesus and everyone on the planet could read them.



I'm sorry.
Really.
It was my fault and I take full responsibility.
I just wasn't thinking.

It was callous, at best, to think that I could come to your town, spend my money, and have a good time.

That was wrong.  Not right.  Just plain wrong.

But here's the thing, Dear People of Vegas (ditto for People of New Orleans),

You've crafted a culture for yourselves.  And that culture says, "Come to our city; laugh, eat, drink, be merry, and generally let loose and have good time; after all, you're on vacation, so live it up."

Except, you don't really like tourists do you?
I mean, you like the money for sure.  Just not the people attached to the other end of those dollar bills, right?

I get it.
People from all over the world, hear your siren call, and they come.
In buses, and planes, and trains, and cars, and trucks, loaded for bear, they come from all four corners of the earth because YOU told them to.
"Come on!  You'll have a great time!  Spend your hard-earned dollars here.  Bring grandma and the kids!  We'll make it work for ya'!"
That's what you said.

And come they do.
And, sometimes they're difficult.
Sometimes they're old or heavy-set, or drunk, or just unaware of all your rules and regulations, and sometimes they ask to substitute coleslaw for a vegetable.

But, you told us to come.
And, in NOLA, you've been telling us how great it is again, and PLEASE come back because we've recovered from Katrina and we're ready to show you a happy, happy day.

But, you don't really like us when we show up.
You're kind of grumpy to be honest.
I mean, if I were to be completely honest, you're sort of pricks.

I get that, as a people, (and I'm not excluding EPPdF), American tourists are fat and loud and arrogant and demanding, and we occasionally break your social mores by being 10 minutes late for the limo.

But you invited us.
If you don't want us, then please roll up the welcome mat and go fuck yourself.
Seriously.
Put up a new sign that says, "Las Vegas: Go Jump Off a Bridge Instead"

See.

That would do it.
I would not go to that town.

But, I came to your town with your encouragement.  And you were rude.
You've got a bad attitude and it's making me think that you're just an asshole.

And here's how I know that it's not me.
I went to Austin, as a tourist, who didn't know anything about anything, and I had a great time.
People in Austin were spectacularly nice.  All of them.
From the El Camino to The Roaring Fork, to The State Theater, right up to the capitol building, people were friendly and inviting and willing to sit and talk for a few minutes.
Young and old, male and female, I had 0 problems striking up a conversation with whoever I happened to be sitting next to at a bar or restaurant, or just walking down the street.
Same EPPdF.  Different city.
Austin = phenomenally nice.
Vegas = dick-heads.

And, look;  I'm willing to give you some rope based on the fact that you deal with lots of tourists, and have been for a long, long time, and it can be really frustrating to deal with over-heated, over-weight, over-served tourists who ask the same dumb questions or make the same dumb requests over and over but, THAT's YOUR JOB.

If you don't like your job, I have two words for you;

LEARN TO FUCKING TYPE.

But, since your job is, or at least involves dealing with tourists, hows 'bout's you drop the fucking attitude, hmmm?

I know that I'm not as cool as your local buddies.
I get that you took the bartending gig so that you could hang out with your friends and drink on the cheap and occasionally hop up and down on a wayward bachelorette.  And, I'm real sorry that it turned into an actual job that involves actual work and that actual people who aren't your buddies and who don't find your bad attitude charming come into your personal hang out making ridiculous demands like, "can I substitute the cole-slaw for a veggie?"

But, seriously;  Go Fuck Yourself.

I mean, you don't have to rush.
Finish your breakfast, for Christ's sakes.  It's the most important meal of the day after all.
But, sometime,... oh...I'd say, sometime over the next couple days, when you're out running errands, maybe on the way to the grocery store or picking up your dry cleaning, just fit a good, solid Go Fuck Yourself into the afternoon.  Don't make a special trip or anything; no reason to waste gas.  But do Go Fuck Yourself.

Thanks buddy,

Sincerely,

EPPdF




OK - all complaining aside, I had a good time in Las Vegas.
The helo tour was awesome and the lady pilot (I know, THEY CAN FLY - I was shocked too) Odilee (I know I just butchered that - sorry) was awesome.  What a sweetheart.
T.I.N.Y.  She couldn't have been 90 pounds soaking wet but she was great.  Smooth flight, and totally sweet and charming the whole day (and she deals with tourists too!?!)
And Gregor at the photograpy store in the Venetian - what a nice guy.  I had a great talk about medium format cameras, Arte Wolfe and his pictures, and the movie Office Space.
See people, it can be done.  There are people who deal with tourists all the time and aren't raging twats!
And, The Beatles/Love Show at The Mirage by Cirque de Soleil.  Fantastic.
I know it's been going forever and I'm really late to the game but I really, really enjoyed it and you will too.
And if you don't like The Beatles music we can't be friends anymore, anyhow.
Also, Marge and Carl took Ms. X and I down to Fremont St. to walk around and watch the crazy crowds of people and the insane light show on the ceiling which was really cool.
And, even though I didn't get to see Long Lost Cousin Elissa, it was nice to talk to her and hopefully we'll get together sometime in the near future.

Please, if you go to Vegas, go see Gregor at his photo store in The Venetian (look for Arte Wolfe nature photos) and go take the Grand Canyon tour with Odilee at Sunset Helo Tours.
But avoid The Peter Lik photo store at The Venetian (what pretentious dicks - You're the Thomas Kinkade of photography so just settle down assholes) and do not, for any reason, go to McMullan's Irish Pub next to The Orleans.  Seriously.  That guy has been The Biggest Dick I've met in my 30 plus days on the road and I would like every one to know it, avoid it, and for his business to shrivel and die.
It's not revenge.  It's not bitterness or ugliness.  It's street justice.
You are rude to people and then they stop coming to see you.  It's actually a very simple dynamic.
If you're a dick, people won't like you and won't want to spend their time and money coming to see you.

The end.