The Dorsey Cocktail Bar - The Venetian Las Vegas

I sit on the back of the couch, leaning against the wall. Four people are crammed into the seats, three gorgeous women and one of my buddies. From my perch on the back of the couch, I’m lord of all I survey. It’s good to be the king, and tonight, I am the king.
It’s the third night of our trip, and I’ve gotten us access to a special birthday party in the dance club on the top floor of the casino. Dave’s night of debauchery at the five-star strip club on our first night in Vegas was up to his usual high standards. Joey’s casino night was fun, I made a little money at the craps table. Neil’s plans for tomorrow are still under wraps. I want to make Saturday memorable.
The birthday party is for a reality TV star. A very notable, famous one. It’s not a Kardashian, don’t worry. It is a big deal, though, cameras for the show will be filming, and it seems like everybody under age 30 wants to be there. Back home, before we left, I told the boys to pack clothes suitable for a club. They laughed, we are not a group that went to dance clubs at 25, they don’t want to start now. I ask them to trust me, and they do.
Our car service drops us at the main door, and there is a line. I ask security if this is the VIP line, and he says no, follow this line inside, the VIP table is to the left. We go in, the couple dozen folks outside wondering if we are famous. Joey and I walk through the glass foyer, Neil and Dave behind us, and the line stretches ahead, as far as we can see. There are hundreds of people dressed for a club night stretched along the casino floor. As we stride past them, we hear a couple bratty girls complain “what makes them so special,” and a guy loudly say “I think the big one was a hockey player.”
It’s a long queue. I’m amused at how many people are lined up to be in the background on reality TV, while a guy who doesn’t want to be famous at all is skipping the wait. After crossing the clanging casino floor, we get to the check-in. A pair of frantic women are overwhelmed working the general admission table, while a very professional lady sits at the empty VIP table. “Aaron Bloom and guests,” I state as she looks up.
She asks for ID and credit card, staring at me as I hand them over. She makes a “Hmmm” sound and crosses my name off the list, “I thought you were shorter.” She is about to run my card, and stops. “Your reservation is for four, but there are seven in your party, are you paying for them all?” There must be another group behind us that she’s mixing up, but as I turn, I see Dave wink, a stunning girl on each arm. A third girl is with Neil, Dave’s lifelong wingman, and Neil has a shit-eating grin plastered across his lucky face.
I turn back to the table, looking the lady in the eye, half a smile on my face, trying to be charming. “Seven it is, ma’am. We are one short if you’d like to join us.” She pretends to think about it for a moment, raises an eyebrow, then hands me my cards and receipt. She shoos us along to the elevator, but we exchange a smile as my group departs.
The seven of us get on the elevator. The operator swipes a card and hits 51, one floor short of the big dance club on 52. Dave introduces the girls, all of them about twenty-five, all of them very grateful to get into the party and out of the long line. They are very pretty, but Nikki, the gorgeous one, slinks up to me and grabs the lapels of my blazer, pulling me down low enough for a whisper. “Thank you, you’re the best. You can get us on TV, right? I just want my opportunity.” I don’t lie, leaning in and replying, “we will be in the right place for it.” As I say it, I glare over the girl at Dave, who smiles and shrugs. I don’t know who the girls think I am, but Dave has them thinking I’m important.
That’s my third mistaken identity of the evening, and not the last. Girl at the table was right, the powerful and very wealthy Aaron Bloom is shorter than me, and a good bit older. He’s a known name with a less known face, and it happens to be the name on my drivers license. My face and height? Ten years earlier, I’d occasionally get a beer on the house, a bar patron buying me a drink and swearing I was a hockey player, even though the barkeep would tell them that I wasn’t. I can’t even skate, but the dude in line was an echo of those days. Now these fame hungry girls think I’m Hollywood reality TV connected. I need a drink.
It’s a long ride to 51, and Joey is odd man out, no girl. Dave introduces the girl on his arm, Lauren, to Joey. Based on the walk across the casino floor, the fact that Joey and I are good friends, Dave paints a picture that Joey must also be an influential guy to know, he’s tight with the big fella. The girl is suddenly intrigued by soft spoken Joey, and now has a grip on his arm and a big smile. Neil’s new friend, Allison, seems happy enough, and Dave is now solo. No one feels bad for solo Dave, it never lasts long.
The elevator dings at 51, and the doors open to an opulent private club. Dark woods, deep leather couches, a grand piano with a cover on it. It is a classy contrast to the clanking noise and the tracksuit clad gamblers in the casino. A hostess meets us as we leave the elevator. She looks at my receipt, then up at me, and at the receipt again. She calls over another hostess, hands the new girl the receipt, and we follow her to our spot.
We pass through a pair of rooms with small groups of party-goers in front of enormous bottles of booze, bottle-service parties within the bigger party. No one in the first room notices us, but everyone in the second room stops what they are doing and looks at us. “Who are they?” “Do you recognize them?” Someone even snaps a picture of Joey and I and the girls on our arms. I’m confused, until we leave the second room and enter the opulent bar area.
The main bar area is mahogany and brass, crystal and LED light. The walls are curtained, and there are pods of couches lining all of the walls. Three tables are on the small dance-floor, for the guests of honor.
I look around the room, it is uncrowded. I recognize a pair of stand-up comics, one who’s been in a couple movies. A sports team owner holds court with his group of guests. A pair of NBA players has a gaggle of girls around them. One gets up as we approach, taller than me. He gives me a handshake/ back pat, and says “good to see you, brother” as the hostess hustles us by. The girls are impressed, I turn to Joey and mouth “what the fuck?”
We arrive at our pod, a pair of couches and a low table, with the back of the couch for the next pod making a U shape. As we settle in, Dave disappears. Yet another hostess pops up, two waiters behind her with trays. We get bottle service as part of the admission. I choose Vodka, and the hostess opens and places a towering bottle of Grey Goose on the table with an array of mixers. We have been comped another round of bottle service, do we want another vodka? I want gin, everyone, even the girls, makes a face, and moments later another huge bottle of Goose joins the one on the table. It is a fuckton of booze.
Dave returns, another pair of hot ingenues on his arms, his deal with the devil apparently still working. We settle in, only one of the girls joining the four of us for a raw shot of vodka to remember an old friend. Then Neil starts mixing drinks. Vodka-cranberry or vodka-redbull for each of the girls. I’d enjoy a martini, but with the intimidating bottles on the table, my “don’t die” reflex kicks in and I opt for a weak vodka-tonic.
After the bro-hug from the NBA player, Nikki is now thoroughly convinced I am worth knowing, and she’s got a death grip on my left arm. She gives the two new girls Dave brought a scowl, warning them off. I feel bad, I’m not some producer. But all she wants is to be on camera, and I’ve gotten her into a room full of celebrities. She knows it, and keeps an eye peeled for camera crews and microphone booms. One of the new girls asks “Oh my god, who are you guys? We are twenty feet from the main table, are you friends with the star?” The questions continue on, and Nikki mistakes my honesty for modesty as I say “We are nobody, don’t worry about it.”
After fifteen-twenty minutes, as we mix another round of drinks, she leans in and kisses me, claiming me, marking territory for the other girls to see. Nikki is gorgeous, a lithe 5’8”, athletic, tan, toned. She’s wearing a shift dress, mostly sequins, and I’m pretty sure the dress is all she’s wearing. No bra straps, no bump on the back of the dress where hooks would be. She’s got lovely medium sized boobs, and she’s young and fit and firm enough to skip a bra tonight for her chance to be on camera.
She’s immaculately made up, her stunning face accented perfectly. She has long brown hair with subtle shading, and a near flawless physique. I do not end up with girls who look like models, my “type” skewing to quirky, or tall, or busty, or bookish. Tonight, there is a wannabe actress on my arm. She’s not there for me, she’s there for the Hollywood guy, or the hockey player, or the billionaire, whichever will get her on TV. I’m not those guys, but it doesn’t matter. I’m going to get her on TV regardless. I look up, and see the camera crew arrive.
When the cameras pan the dance floor upstairs later, everyone screams and raises their arms. Here, it is restrained. The comedians say “hey”, the basketball players make a peace sign. I give a thumbs up with a raised eyebrow, Nikki flashing a perfect smile by my side, the rest of the group briefly “in the shot” as the camera pans in. Fame is Nikki’s aphrodisiac, apparently. As the cameras move on to the next group, she kisses me, then swings a leg over to straddle me and kiss me harder, a few howls of “get a room” from the group.
A half hour later, the guest of honor arrives, and people stand, offer toasts, the comics make jokes, all in service to the hunger for story in their show. I’m urged forward by one of the hostesses as the cake is brought out, “in shot” with the other celebrities singing happy birthday. Nikki is beside me, she has almost dug trenches in my elbow with her nails. The VIP treatment, the cameras, the access, it’s far more than she dreamed.
As we get back to the table, everybody is happy, some are shit-faced and happy. Dave has cycled a near parade of girls through our couple of couches, only Allison remains of the original crew. Four new girls are mixing drinks with Dave and Neil, Joey lost to the dance floor upstairs, dragged away by some half-drunk girl. Nikki leans into me, and asks “can we go back to your room?”
My room is halfway across town, I’m not staying in this hotel. Before I answer, I wave over one of the VIP hostesses who patrol the room. I tell her I’m a bit woozy and need to compose myself, do they have a private place available to rest. She looks at me, at horny Nikki, and back at me, seeing right through my weak ruse. It doesn’t matter, VIPs needing a room in the middle of a party is a thing they are prepared for. “Of course sir, I’ll have someone escort you.” I flash Dave three “tens” with my hands, signing that I’ll be gone for a half hour as yet another hostess introduces herself.
A short elevator ride later and the hostess swipes us into the room, handing me the room card. I tip her generously as she leaves. Nikki whistles as she takes it all in. The room is much, much nicer than my “pretty nice” room at the Venetian. A king bed dominates the room, the furniture is leather. The far wall is all window, with a glass door to a balcony, overlooking the city, the Vegas Strip twinkling in the distance.
“You are the best. All I wanted was to be on the dance floor near a camera, to be seen. I’m going to be on TV in the VIP, standing between you and a movie star singing happy birthday. Thank you.” She lowers the straps of her dress off her shoulders, and with a shrug, the satiny, sequined shift slides to the ground at her heels. No bra, that much I knew. No panties either, just that loose dress hiding this perfection.
Nikki is a knockout, framed in front of those windows, that view of Vegas, a magazine cover waiting to happen. She steps over her dress and preens, posing, seducing. Her black heels stay on, and her long tan legs are toned, shapely calves and slightly curved thighs drawing the eye up, to her ass. With heels and a slight bend forward at the waist, her behind is a work of art. The cute butt sweeps and curves into a slim lower back, the curves enhanced by the little circular dents where the muscles meet.
Her ass tapers into a narrow waist. She’s toned, and her frame is slim. The long torso is flat, but unmuscled, no visible abs, but no extra padding. Her breasts are beautiful, perfect and firm mounds, a small C. The nipples are a deeper tan than her skin, almost brown, tilted up. Even the curve of her collarbone into her shoulder is graceful, as if sculpted by a master, every detail important. Perfect features, gorgeous body, flowing hair, and plainly eager.
“Do you like this?” she asks. I’m sure that she has never heard anyone answer “no” to that question, but I can hear doubt. I tell her she’s beautiful, and I find the source of her doubt “Come on, you’ve been with models, actresses…” I stop her, and tell her, honestly, that she’s perfect. She smiles and crosses the room to me, and begins unbuttoning my shirt. Once removed, she kisses my chest, up to my shoulders, demure and aggressive at once.
I lean down to kiss her, my hand on the small of her back, lifting her slightly. She stretches up, forearms resting on my shoulders, fingers entwined around my neck. She breaks the kiss, and walks to the window. Placing her hands on the glass, she gives me a show. She bends gracefully, her perfect behind on display. She curves herself forward, flexing her elbows, pressing her breasts to the cool glass. Her nipples harden, and she shivers.
I approach her, kicking off my shoes and undoing my belt as I walk. She turns, and slides my pants to the ground. As she rises, she says, “Jesus, you’re a billionaire and you have a big cock? That’s almost not fair.” Now I know which mistaken identity she’s latched onto, no wonder she thought I slept with models. She traces her fingernail across my shorts, along the length of my dick, making little shapes, teasing. She stands, and presses herself into me, and peels my shorts down and off. My cock springs out, and she grabs hold. First with one hand, then barely wrapping her other hand around it, still with space below and above. It throbs, and reddens, in her hands. “That’s not big, that’s huge” she whispers.
I pull her close, hands on her ass, cock pressed against her belly as we kiss again. I lift her, swinging around and laying her on the bed. She looks down at me, between her legs, and says “you don’t need to do that for me, I’m already …” the next word was probably “wet”, but it’s lost behind a little grunt as my tongue finds her clit. I feel her thighs on my ears, and her hips thrusting up, wanting more. I trace lines and circles on her, working her button then sliding my tongue along the crease of her lips, then back to her clit. In moments, I feel little tremors, she’s having an orgasm, shaking, whispering “wonderful” at the end.
I ask her to go back to the window, it was very sexy, and she says she’s got a better idea. She opens the door to the balcony, and beckons me to follow. She grabs the rail, and shakes her ass at me. It’s not cold out, but it’s windy up here, her hair blows behind her as she turns her head to say “take me.” I approach her from behind, squeezing her ass, sliding two fingers into her, eliciting a soft moan. I wrap an arm around her from behind, pulling her up to me, kissing her shoulder and neck. My cock rests on the shelf of her behind, pressed into her back. She whispers over her shoulder, “fuck me, now.”
She’s wet. She’s very, very wet, her orgasm from the oral adding to her ready state. She has her hands on the rail as I briefly tease her lips with my head. The wind whips by as I push into her, a quiet moan taken from her lips to the sky. I work my way into her slowly, methodically, enjoying the moans, listening for any negative sounds or reactions. I’ve learned to be careful, but Nikki has other thoughts. She reaches back, hand on my hip, and says “all of it”. I change from my short and deepening strokes, slidIng out nearly all the way.
With one hand on her hip and the other on her shoulder, I slowly drive my cock all the way into her. She’s wet, and very willing, moaning louder as my fat cock fills her. “Oh god damn you’ve got a big one” she says into the wind. She wriggles her ass, then yells “stay still!” With her heels planted firmly on the balcony, her hands on the rails, she slides forward. The arch of her back exposes her tits for the world to see, not that anyone is looking at the 47th floor. Then she slides back onto me, a long hard stroke, grunting at the end. Again, slowly, she slides forward and slams back, finding a rhythm, grunting with the effort, moaning with the rising pleasure. She is a thing of beauty, a work of art, repeatedly and needfully impaling herself on my fat red cock.
She cries out, and lowers her torso, changing the angle. I have to take a half step back, but she has a new rhythm, a new urgency, finding a deep connection she wants more of. I grab her hips, helping her drive down and reach a place inside her that is working for her. She screams, a long “ohhhhhhhh” out to the world, not caring who hears. “Oh fuck, goddamn, that was amazing.” She slides forward, disengaging with a filthy wet noise. As she turns to me, my wet dick brushes her taut belly. “Jesus, that didn’t make you come?” She grabs my cock and drags me inside to the bed.
We lay down together, and she kisses me before rolling on top of me. Her bright blue eyes look through me with lust and more as she perches on me. She’s still perfect even after the hard balcony fuck. I realize she’s chosen positions to keep her hair and makeup from being mussed too much. No missionary, no doggy. I admire her high perky boobs and the taut tendons of her upper thighs as she positions herself. She leans forward, and guides my cock deep into her. She slides all the way down, and then straightens upright. She starts to bob, short strokes, taking my full length each time, smiling.
She asks for my hands, and I raise my arms. She locks her hands into mine. With the leverage, her strokes are longer, she knows what she’s doing. Her smile adjusts, less glee and more determination, driving toward her own orgasm, and mine. Her pert breasts wobble each time she slams down onto me, her fingers hold tight, intertwined through mine. I feel my blood rise, my own urgency, I’m close. She’s close too. A deep growling moan escapes her lips and she clenches her hands, digging nails into the backs of my hands. After the exhaling moan, she drops onto me, all of my cock deep inside as I explode into her. She’s let go of my hands, leaning back slightly, propped on my legs, no longer riding. She’s still coming, riding her wave, her eyes lost and rolling. I feel my own final spurt, one last throb. I look down and see a trickle of our mixed love on the top of my cock, below her lips.
“Oh fuck. That was supposed to be my thank you, I didn’t expect that. Fuck me, that was good.” She’s still on me, chattering away as my erection flags, spent. Finally, she pops off, and heads to the restroom, still talking. “Do you ever get to Denver? I’d love to see you again.” I hear the water run. A moment later I join her, looking for a towel. As I’m cleaning, she grabs it again, giving it a kiss. “Hopefully I won’t be in Denver for long, I’m sure you get to LA, right?” Nikki is career focused, I will give her that. I tell her I’m always happy to help someone out, keeping myself technically honest. After we clean ourselves, and dress, I dial for a hostess and Nikki kisses me some more, still trying to show her appreciation without falling back into lust again.
We get back to our VIP pod, Joey and Dave drinking with a new group of girls, our “party” now commingled with the NBA players in the next pod. Their side pieces and groupies are hot in entirely different ways that our reality wannabes, it’s quite a mix.
Nikki promises to come back after she finds Allison and Lauren. She will find her friend just after she finishes giving Neil a stairwell blowjob, the relationship they began in the elevator coming full circle hours later. Lauren is out on the dance floor, the only one of the three having the night they planned.
One of the girls on our couches hands me a fat cigar, out of a box that was “sent to Mr. Bloom” while I was away. All the seats are taken, so I climb to the back of the couch, and sit. I bite off the end of the cigar and chomp on it, unlit, waiting for Nikki’s return.
Most nights I’m just a guy, the big fella, but just a guy. Tonight, I’m a VIP, sharing camera time with celebrities, bro-hugs with pro athletes, and still glowing from my time with the work-of-art woman. I’m a king in this room, not just a guy, at least for tonight. It’s good to be the king.

[Trip Report] One week, three Brits.

We just spent a week in Vegas split between two hits and three hotels.
This is my 6th time in Vegas, my fiancé’s 3rd time, and my friend’s 2nd time. We love the city. It is the only place like it on Earth. I love it, but this massive adult theme-park needs to be treated with respect and best approached with experience. So, I hope this report will help others.
We were here last year, and although we had an amazing time, we did make some mistakes. This year’s trip was refined to near perfection.
Flights (UK to Vegas).
We’re from the UK. We flew direct with Virgin Atlantic. As far as I know VA are the only airline that flies direct from UK to Vegas. We used 80,000 airmiles to upgrade to Premium seats. When you’re sat on your arse for 11 and a half hours, the extra comfort, space, and legroom are well worth it. It also means the actual cost for the flight was super low compared to booking Premium seats without miles (£400 compared to around £1500).
As it's a 747, I would recommend getting seats on the upper deck. As it is the top bulge of the plane, it only holds around 70 passengers. It feels exclusive, with faster service from the staff, shorter lines for the bathroom, and far less chance a child or baby will be sat near you.
Jetlag.
Something I didn’t take into account last time was the effect of jet lag. We paid for it. With the West Coast being 8 hours behind the UK, we tried a different tactic this time around. As soon as asses touched seats on the plane, we adjusted clocks to Vegas time. We respected the need to sleep by front-loading the flight with lots of booze and soon got our heads down. With those few hours of sleep, we were much better adjusted when we landed.
ESTA.
Immigration into the US can be a pain, but here’s a tip; if you’ve travelled to the US before with the same ESTA, you can use the automated passport scanners and skip the massive line.
Food.
We’re foodies. We’ve traveled the world and eaten at many Michelin Star restaurants. It’s our thing. It’s our passion. We had high hopes for Vegas food last year, but we came to the quick realisation Vegas can’t do quality. It's not surprising. The sheer volume of people that pound the strip means restaurants don’t really need to try to turn a profit. As I said above, Vegas is a theme-park. It supplies the fake and gaudy like no other, but on the flip side it can’t really do genuine or authentic. Last year we had to pay truly spectacular amounts of money before we got a properly impressive meal at é by José Andrés in the Cosmo. I can’t afford to do that again. So, this year we did things differently. We embraced the brash, the massive, and the crappy and ate like the locals.
Finances.
Vacations are my opportunity to live large. I look forward to them all year, and save for them with the intention to experience things way beyond my normal life. I want luxury. I want finery. I want to be treated like a rockstar, because these things just don’t exist in my day to day life. I spent a lot on this holiday, but that’s because I saved for it and budgeted hard for it. If you’re doing Vegas, then you have to do it right!
Hotel 1: The Vdara.
After the flight and immigration we got a cab to our first hotel; the Vdara. What a brilliant hotel. It doesn’t have a casino attached, so is less Vegas and less insane than many strip hotels, but I’ve been there and done that - so this was a beautiful, calm hotel for the start of our trip.
We went for a Lake View Suite. Sounds fancy, and it was, but so much cheaper than an equivalent at one of the other big hotels. The room was massive, and modern. It also had a microwave and food preparation area with fridge separate to the mini bar.
The Vdara also has a nifty room service robot that can deliver snacks and drinks to you autonomously. It is a novelty now, but it worked well and I can see it being rolled out to other hotels soon.
As for location, the Vdara is right behind the Aria and the Bellagio. There’s a sneaky walkway to the Bellagio, or a short walk across the valet to the Aria. From either of these hotels you are straight onto the strip.
Adventures.
Day 1.
First port of call was a walk down the strip to In-n-Out burger next to the High Roller. We don’t have In-n-Out in the UK so its a real treat.
We walked the strip until well after dark, visiting Caesars, the Bellagio for coffee, and finally back to the Vice Versa bar at the Vdara. It is a quiet lobby bar with a calm outside section. We had a few drinks there and then off to bed.
Day 2.
Breakfast at Eggslut at the Cosmo. Expensive, but very tasty. Get the cookie. I has just the right amount of gooey inside and salt crust to make the perfect pud.
Back to the Vdara for a workout at their OK gym and then relaxing at the pool. They do a bag check, but we just had water and coke so let us in. I think they were looking for booze.
After our fill of the sun (still 30^o C + in October) we made our way back to the Cosmo for a late lunch at Block 16. This is their new “street food” area with an excellent selection. We went for the sushi rolls at Tekka. Really good, and bigger than expected. They also have Asahi on draft. Again, a little expensive for the type of food but nice.
Hopped in a taxi for a walk around the canals at the Venetian, then over the the Wynn for drinks at Parasol Down. We like drinking outside, and it was really relaxing sipping cocktails by the waterfall. I had a crab cheesy dip thing with breads that was surprisingly tasty.
We headed back to the Vdara to get ready for our evening at the Luxor. It started with drinks at an Irish bar I forget the name of. It actually had genuine Irish staff and live music, so the fakery was better than most. A few pints later we went to see the Blue Man Group. Hilarious and a lot of fun. Well recommended.
After BMG we wandered to the Mandalay looking for food, but their restaurants were all taken over by a massive convention. We hopped into a cab and made our way back to the Cosmo to Beauty and Essex for food. The restaurant was very cool. You enter through a secret door in a cheesy gift shop. You’re then lead to a dimly lit, intimate table by a pretty server lady. Food was only OK, but definitely not up to scratch for the price. However, the atmosphere was amazing.
Day 3.
Breakfast was a 15 inch pizza slice from Pin Up Pizza at Planet Hollywood. Horrible, greasy pizza, but the novelty was fun. We checked out and picked up our car from our Turo host, a Tesla Model X for the next leg of our trip; a week in San Diego. Amazing city. Go.
Vegas Day 4.
Hotel 2: The SLS.
It was fight night. Hotels were stupidly expensive because of McGregor vs Khabib, so we stayed for one cheap night at the SLS. When we booked it it was still the W, but the SLS since took it over. The room was a Fabulous King, but I’m not sure that name is relevant anymore. Anyway, the hotel is still in a state of flux. The W side was dead. The bar was closed and the few remaining staff seemed to just be milling around. It was odd.
The room was spacious, and had an interesting theme, but seemed a little empty given its square footage. It did have a mirror above the bed, though. Very Vegas. After the long drive from SD, we freshened up and got dinner at Bazaar Meats by José Andrés. This was my favorite meal in Vegas. José Andrés can actually be counted on for a great theme and good food. It wasn’t quite good enough for the price, but it was closer than any other restaurant we visited on this trip.
The atmosphere and decor were incredible. A massive industrial fire pit grilling many meats greets you as you enter. The entire room is bordered by the various kitchens and preparation areas, and produce is proudly on show. There were some freakishly huge vegetables and a vast array of meat slabs all around. Of all the Vegas restaurants I’ve visited, the theming here was on point.
After dinner, we stayed at the SLS for drinks around the casino watching the fight in the sports bar.
Vegas Day 5.
Hotel 3: The Cosmopolitan.
We checked out of the SLS quickly, glad to be away from its strangeness. As if to confirm our ikky intuition, we passed a crime scene investigation outside, little orange cones all over indicating spent bullet casings. Welcome to America, motherfucker!
We headed to our next and final hotel - the Cosmo. What an incredible place. By far and away my fave hotel on the Stip. In addition to the hotels this trip, I’ve stayed at the Stratosphere, Luxor, Aria, and Bellagio. This was better than them all.
Even though it was around midday when we hit the check in desk, the concierge sorted us out with a room upgrade to an immediately available room. With three of us sleeping in one room, he wanted to ensure we were comfortable, so booked us into an unlisted suite with two bathrooms, a japanese soaking tub, and a massive balcony on the 55th floor overlooking the Bellagio fountains and the strip.
That view was breathtaking, and the room was stunning. Only one minor issue - we found a diaper behind the sofa that housekeeping had missed from the last guest. We complained to the front desk and they sorted it with a $75 credit and resort fees refunded. Score!
Lunch was at Secret Pizza. A good slice. Be aware they have more slices available than is on display.
We went to Walmart to pick up booze and snacks. And a kettle. I’m English. I need my tea. Vegas hotels don’t have tea and coffee making facilities in the room, so a $15 kettle and some tea was a must. For the cost of three drinks at Starbucks, this is a good move for us Brits. The Cosmo room also had a little bar with additional fridge to the mini bar, so we packed that bitch with booze, mixers and fruit.
After Walmart we picked our friend up at the airport and got her showered and dressed ready for dinner. A few drinks at the Chandelier bar in the Cosmo, then over to Jaleo by José Andrés. I’m sure you’re seeing a theme with our booked restaurant choices, but José is consistently good. Jaleo was no exception. The paella was a touch disappointing this time, but the other dishes were amazing.
We drank a bit too much sangria, so kept the party going with drinks in Beauty and Essex. It may be a restaurant, but the little bar area also has seating for drinkers to watch the patrons come and go (and the pretty front of house ladies). It proved a great spot to people watch and enjoy their amazing cocktails.
After too many drinks, we retired to the room and enjoyed the view with more drinks and snacks on the balcony. That experience was priceless. The twinkling view of the Vegas madness far below our own intimate little party felt very special. We got pretty messy loving that very special moment, and eventually found the bed. After all, our friend had been up for nearly 35 hours. Hardcore!
Day 6.
To work off the punishment to our livers the night before, we hit the Cosmo gym. It is OK, and actually has a good number of heavy dumbbells. Many hotel gyms I’ve been to stop at around 60lbs but the Cosmo went way up to 100lbs weights. There were only two benches though, so I can see it being a problem when busy.
We got brunch at Lardo in the Cosmo Block 16 street food thingy. Great food, but three sandwiches, a coke, and one fries cost nearly $75! Fucking ridiculous. Street food prices these are not.
After nursing my abused credit card, we headed to The Range 702. We’d booked the Triple Threat package where you get to pick three guns of your choice with 25 rounds each. I shot a Colt, a P90 and an M4. The girls both opted for two handguns and an AK47. The automatic rifles were quite an experience. Loud and violent.
I have shot at The Strip Gun Club before and they were very attentive and let us take our time. Our shooting at 702 felt a little rushed in comparison. They have you shoot all your guns back to back, so for the girls especially they were a little beaten up after their sessions. It would be better to alternate shooters with each gun to give the wrists a rest, but hey, it was a noisy, blasty, shooty good time anyway.
After the blasting we went back to the Cosmo to get ready for our evening. This is where we again paid for wanting to wing it and not book too many things. All dressed up, we headed to the Bellagio because we wanted some drinks at Hyde to watch the fountains as the sun went down. It was booked out by a conference party. So we went to try at Spago. Same story. Booked out by conference weenies. We tried back at the Cosmo at the Chinese Mexican called China Poblano, but again the same fucking story! Booked out by conference weenies.
We said fuck it, went to the room, threw on our shorts and sneakers, and hit the strip for a dirty night. We walked the craziness with slushy margaritas and ended up at In-n-Out again. We had a burger and then went on a drunk hunt for pudding.
Ok. Let me make one thing clear. If you cover a cupcake or doughnut or cookie in enough frosting to choke a donkey, then it will just taste like frosting. And it seems like that’s all you can get at the quick and easy places on the Strip. Our failed pud-hunt brought us to Caesars. I remembered the Gordon Ramsey restaurant did a sticky toffee pudding. Somehow we got seating for three, even though we looked like we’d just been kicked out of a pool party.
I say somehow, but when we entered we could see why.
Gordon Ramsay’s Pub and Grill is the perfect metaphor for Vegas. I’ve eaten at two of Gordon's Michelin starred restaurants in London and one that didn’t have a star. They are all exquisite. Decor, food, service and the general experience all live up to his reputation for perfection. London is possibly the best place on earth for fine food. Gordon has to be on top of his game to make it there. And he does. Vegas he does not. Vegas is about churning out vaguely thematically relevant crap to the clueless for huge profit. Gordon’s Pub and Grill is hilarious. The theme is old English pub in the middle of a Roman themed casino. With TVs. Lots of TVs. It’s as if someone described a pub down the phone to the designer it’s that bad.
We had the corned beef poutine (not an English pub dish) and and the sticky toffee pudding (better). The poutine was terrible. Just fries with pastrami meat (not corned beef) and bad cheese. There was hardly any gravy. The pud was good though, but maybe that was because of a few sunk pints. It hit the spot and the size of it caused comment from the table beside us (who were eating burgers - sigh).
Anyway, after done there, back to the room for more balcony drinks and that view.
Day 7.
A quiet one today. Using the room credit we got a daybed at the Cosmo pool. The cabana bed thing is a $200 minimum spend. The $200 lasted us all day. We managed to eat well, with breakfast, other nibbles, and a few drinks reaching $200.
The pool is gorgeous and the attendants were very attentive (hence the name, I suppose).
By the time we’d spent our credit, it was nearly dinner o’clock.
Dressed up pretty, we headed to New York New York and got Shake Shack burgers. Tasty. Not quite In-n-Out good, but still better than anything in the UK. We played some giant jenga with some random people at one of the outside bars, then went to the Zumanity show.
Zumanity was great fun. Very naughty, funny, and the acrobatics were impressive. Well recommended. The boobies on show and the sexy theme got us ready for our next stop - the Palomino Strip Club.
My fiance and I had been to the Palomino the year before and we loved it. It is the only club in Vegas that does full nude and booze so it is a no-brainer to be number 1. Our friend had never been to strip club before, so that night was a special treat. We got a bottle service table at the runway with champagne and a stack of ones. It was spectacular pervy fun drinking, watching the girls, and chatting with them as they visited our table. We all got a few sofa dances and had a brilliant night. The girls were super attentive, really looked after my friend as it was her first time, and made us feel very special.
We got a drunk burger at In-n-Out (our last - I promise) and somehow made it back to the room alive
Day 8.
Our last full day. After the craziness of the night before, we slept in.
Brunch was at Mon Ami Gabi. Much like Gordon’s Pub, this place was a hilarious parody of a Parisian café. It was nice to sit outside and watch the Strip go by as I munched my lunch, but the food was pretty bad for the price.
After brunch we walked up the Strip past the Mirage and then over to the Venetian. The girls did some hard-core shopping while I made stupid comments, made their lives difficult, and generally didn’t help. I don’t like shopping, OK. Because I’m a child, they soon gave up. Back to the room for our last bookings of the trip. Yay.
After getting pretty, we hit the Skybar at the Waldorf Astoria (previously the Mandarin Oriental). Gorgeous views and really tasty cocktails.
We hit up Lemongrass for dinner without a booking because the Aria was next to the Waldorf. We ordered way too much food, so got most of it boxed up. We dumped it at the room, and then grabbed a cab to the Wynn for our last big destination.
We were on the guest list to see Afrojack at Intrigue. Great club. The line wasn’t too bad. About 30 minutes as they checked on everyone. My friend had a bit of an issue with her ID as it is an English driver's license, but she found a picture of her passport on her phone to confirm it was her. The girls both got two free drink vouchers and I got one (am I not pretty enough?).
The club was just my thing. It was not massive, but still big. The large outside area around the fire fountains and the waterfall was perfect to escape the heat and craziness of the dance-floor. We stayed for far too long given we had a 9 hour flight to catch the next day, but it was worth it. An amazing last night in an amazing city. Of course when we got back in we ate the rest of the Chinese food on the balcony.
Day 9.
One last (expensive-ass) Eggslut, and we were on our way home.
Thank you Vegas.

Politicians show their cards in Las Vegas

When I travel, I often tell lawmakers I’m headed to their home state or district. I often suggest we meet for coffee or breakfast sometime. As a reporter, it’s a helpful contrast to see House members and senators in Washington – and also on their home turf.
It helps me understand them better, get a sense of the issues which are important to them and determine what makes them tick.
TRUMP NEEDS A TRANSFER, MAY HAVE TO ROB PETER TO PAY PAUL
Years ago, I casually mentioned to the staff of then Rep. Barney Frank, D-Mass., I was traveling to the Congressman’s district to attend a wedding. A few weeks passed and I didn’t give it any more thought. Much to my surprise, Frank himself phoned back the day before I left with suggestions for restaurants and dining. He also gave me a brief tutorial about the culture of his district.
Most lawmakers love to hear when you are coming to their district or state. They know every nook and cranny. They know the people. The attractions. The restaurants. And they love to show off the place they represent in Washington.
I had never been to Las Vegas until a few years ago. In that instance, I didn’t tell any members of the Nevada delegation I was heading to the Silver State. But when I returned, I ran into then Rep. Shelley Berkley, D-Nev., in a corridor just off the House floor. I told Berkley I had recently visited Las Vegas.
“Where did you stay?” inquired an interested Berkley.
I subsequently told Berkley I stayed at The Venetian, the legendary hotel and casino known for replicating the canals of Venice, the Palazzo Ducale and the Rialto Bridge.
It’s also operated by business magnate Sheldon Adelson.
“Oh, Chad,” Berkley chided gently with a smile on her face. “You stayed at the only non-union hotel on the Strip.”
Las Vegas is a union town. And Adelson is well-known for bucking the labor movement.
“Well,” continued Berkley. “Did you lose any money?”
I don’t gamble much. But I did hit the numbers a few times on the roulette wheel and had some good runs on slot machines.
“We actually came out ahead,” I told Berkley.
She grimaced a bit. On one hand, Berkley perhaps hoped I had won, and thus enjoyed myself and would come again. On the other hand, perhaps Berkley was concerned that my good fortune was bad for the Vegas economy. It was still struggling at that point after the 2008 financial collapse. Many residents were miffed by some stinging remarks dished out by President Obama.
“You don’t blow a bunch of cash on Vegas when you’re trying to save for college,” the former President once said, stirring the ire of locals.
“Well, Chad,” sighed Berkley. “Did you see any shows?”
CAPITOL ATTITUDE
I hesitated to answer for a moment. Yes. I had. But I was worried about Berkley’s response.
“We went to see Jersey Boys,” I told the Congresswoman, “But I’m afraid you’re going to tell me they’re against health care reform.”
Berkley laughed.
——————————————
Fast forward to the government shutdown of 2013. It was a Saturday evening and the Senate just wrapped for the day. No end to the shutdown was in sight. I was the last reporter leaving the Capitol. As I came to the first floor elevators near the Senate Carriage Entrance, Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid, D-Nev., materialized. He too was heading home. Reid had known I had visited Vegas a few times by that point. I asked how he was doing and mentioned I needed a vacation once the government was funded again.
I told Reid of one of my favorite restaurants in Las Vegas: Lotus of Siam. It’s a well-known Thai restaurant located off the Strip. The restaurant is in a different location now. But at the time, Lotus of Siam occupied a spot in a run-down strip mall. The entrance to the restaurant belied the culinary magic inside. The walls were plastered with pictures of Hollywood types and rock stars, all who patronized Lotus of Siam when they visited Las Vegas.
Reid proceeded to tell me Lotus of Siam was one of his favorite restaurants. I asked what dishes he liked there. And with that, the Senate Majority Leader whipped out his phone dialed his wife Landra, asking for the name of a dish the two of them often enjoyed.
“Honey, what is that dish you like so much at Lotus of Siam,” Reid asked his wife. “It’s with pumpkin?”
——————————————
Wendy Sherman was one of the most senior figures at the State Department in 2014. Sherman and other officials journeyed to Capitol Hill to lead a Senate-wide briefing in the basement of the Capitol Visitor’s Center on North Korea’s nuclear program.
TV networks positioned a bank of cameras in the Senate subway station in hopes of grabbing a few senators as they came and went from the briefing. I asked another colleague to handle the stakeout and headed to Cups, a coffee shop in the basement of the Russell Senate Office Building. My plan was to grab a cup of coffee and then cut past the subway station stakeout en route to the Capitol Rotunda. That’s where I was scheduled to meet a source.
Just as I walked up to the stakeout, Harry Reid appeared atop a small escalator leading to the subway station and near where senators would receive their briefing. I hadn’t spoken to Reid directly in a while. He waved hello. We met at the top of the escalator. I told Reid that I’d be heading to Las Vegas again in a few weeks during the upcoming Congressional recess.
We spoke for a moment, ear-to-ear. Naturally, all of the cameras at the stakeout focused on the two of us talking, as though we were exchanging important information about Pyongyang.
“Where are you staying,” Reid asked.
HARRY REID CALLS ELIZABETH WARREN A ‘GOOD PERSON,’ BUT REFUSES TO ENDORSE HER FOR PRESIDENT
I told Reid we previously stayed at the Bellagio and Mandalay Bay. But we weren’t sure yet this time.
“Stay at Wynn,” said Reid, without missing a beat.
“Wynn” is a hotel/casino complex on the north end of the Vegas Strip. Casino Mogul Steve Wynn ran the place until being forced out last year due to sexual misconduct allegations. Reid was telling me this years before anything was known publicly about Wynn’s alleged infractions.
Reid, being Reid, was always frank in his assessments of most situations. Even if it came to hotels on the Vegas Strip.
“Steve Wynn is an ass but a friend,” said Reid of Wynn. “But he has the nicest place in Las Vegas.”
I thanked Reid for the suggestion and headed up to the Rotunda. Reid went the other direction, toward the North Korea briefing.
By the time I reached the Rotunda, my email exploded with questions from reporters at the stakeout who spotted the escalator exchange but couldn’t hear what we were saying.
“What did Reid tell you about North Korea?” they all asked.
“Nothing,” I told them.
“Come on, Chad. What did he say?” probed one incredulous colleague.
Finally, one of Reid’s aides reached out, curious what the Majority Leader had said.
Reid’s staffer was just being diligent, wondering if he needed to brace for a juicy report on North Korea.
“He told me to stay at Wynn,” I replied.
No special information about Pyongyang. No intelligence on Senate parliamentary strategy. No information on Reid’s political future.
Just an unsolicited hotel recommendation.
Stay at Wynn.
——————————————
CLICK TO GET THE FOX NEWS APP
Perhaps one of the most interesting manifestations of democracy I’ve ever seen unfolded in Las Vegas during the 2016 presidential caucus in Nevada. Most of the hotels and casinos granted workers an hour or so off the clock to attend a caucus. The lines of caucus goers represented a fascinating cross-section of every type of employment possible in Las Vegas. Those in line were attired in full work regalia – just taking a few moments to make their voices heard: Blackjack dealer. Bartender. Bellhop. Showgirl. Custodian. Limo driver. Chef. Dishwasher. Housekeeper. Security Guard.
All political caucuses and primaries reflect the states or towns in which they’re held. But this was a presidential caucus in Las Vegas. And those participating in a caucus in Las Vegas were going to cut a very different political figure than caucus goers in Iowa, Colorado, Hawaii or Kansas. It was signature Las Vegas.
Source: Fox News Politics
from MAGA First News https://magafirstnews.com/fox-news/politicians-show-their-cards-in-las-vegas/
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Politicians show their cards in Las Vegas

The House Always Wins- Viva Las Investigation!

[Storymode], and this was written with the approval of Mint's author! Enjoy!
New York City, New York
Theme Prima
“Mr. Cross?” The voice is tinny through the speaker, but still largely understandable. Sitting in a glass encased conference room from a rented New York office, Barrett scribbles on a notepad with beautiful white quill, as Dimitri takes more thorough notes, clacking away on a laptop.
“Yes, this is. May I ask who is calling?”
“Oh, of course. This is Investigator Cornfield speaking, Clark County Sheriff’s department.”
Oh, fuck. Barrett raises an eyebrow to Dimitri, who quickly shifts tactics, doing a search of Saints activities within Clark County; it’d be just his luck of late to have one of hi men getting picked up for not being able to hold their booze and taking a swing at a cop. As the search continues, Investigator Cornfield continues speaking.
“We have on record that you’re in charge of the investment of Ms. Lillian Mint and her family, correct?“
“Yes, I am. Why?” Curious, Barrett leans forward to the speaker phone. Piqued, he genuinely wants to know more, regardless of the odd look he’s getting from Dimitri.
“We recently had a situation occur that will have affected the flow of Ms. Lillian Mint’s money. We wished for you to know this so you don’t see anything unusual and worry.”
“Investigator, you can’t just say that. What situation? What happened?” Barrett’s tone gets sharper as he’s teased with pieces of information, each kept tantalizingly far away from his
“That is up Ms. Lillian Mint to disclose. For now, the information is being kept within the family. Thank you for your understanding. For any additional questions, please contact Clark County Sheriff’s Department at-”
“I have questions now! Have you talked to Mint? Where is she? Is she oka-”
CLICK
The death knell of the phone drones through the room, as Barrett scowls at the conference phone, his hand letting his quill pen drop to the notepad. With an icy calmness, he pushes the notepad far from him before he stands and reaches for his walking stick beside him. Dimitri, knowing what’s going to happen, quickly closes his laptop and rolls away from the table. Barrett, taking one step away from the table, sharply pivots and brings the cane down in a shattering crack upon the phone, a howl of anger and frustration escaping his lips as the plastic of the phone cracks beneath the bronze cap of the cane.
CRASH!
Silence reigns before Barrett speaks once more. Shoulders shaking and breath ragged, his voice is surprisingly calm.
“Dimitri, get me a flight to Vegas, please.”
“-and yes, I need your help -What? Fine, please help me.” Barrett says into the cellphone, rolling his eyes. Seems karma truly does work, as he’s talking himself in a round circle from an earlier experience. Still, the response he gets is at least favorable.
“Alright, I’ll see you in the lobby of the Venetian, cutie.” A foxish voice giggles through the phone. “And don’t keep me waiting, I hate that.”
Las Vegas, Nevada
Theme Secunda
Landing in Vegas, Barrett grimaces. A good twenty degrees warmer, but at least it’s dry and sunny. Flagging down a taxi, the Child of Momus directs them to the Venetian. As the taxi fights its way through the slog of pedestrians and vehicles, Barrett pulls out his phone, reviewing what facts he has. With Dimitri doing homework for him back in New York, there’s a small portfolio waiting for him. Apparently, Mint’s mother Helena had not withdrawn any money in the past several days. For ease of access and security, her monthly stipend was handled through a separate account, just to keep channels clear. Other benefits were rapidly becoming apparent as well, as Barrett can see that there has been no interaction with the money since it was placed in. Normally, Helena was very prompt with accessing the money; as if she didn’t trust Mint’s loan shark of a friend. A fair assessment for an outsider honestly, but it’s helped bring things into disarray here. Why hasn’t she withdrawn the money? Just what happened?
His reverie is interrupted as the car stops in front the casino in question.. Barrett’s grimace only deepens as he sees the sight.
“She literally could not have chosen a more inconspicuous place…” He mutters, before looking at the surroundings. The Mirage on one side, Circus Circus down the block… alright, maybe they could be somewhere more conspicuous. Possibly. Barrett clambers out of the car, tipping the driver and bringing out his heavy suitcase. He’s blushing all the while, he can’t believe that he’s had to do this to make it work… But, it’ll be worth it if it does work. Rolling the suitcase behind him, the young man enters the casino.
Luckily, he doesn’t have long to wait. The young woman lounging on a couch near the massive doors looks up from her phone, her warm eyes bright as she leaps up from her seat and all but tackles Barrett in a hug.
“Hey cutie. I didn’t think you’d show up.” She murmurs into his ear, smirking as she quickly pulls away and watches Barrett’s rose-tinted kaleidoscope of expressions.
“Uh, of c-course I would, we’re going… going to do some work.” He manages, giving a nervous smile as he takes fluttering steps to the counter. One check-in later, and the two are being shown to their suite midway up the the massive tower. Once inside, Barrett collapses into a surprisingly comfortable armchair, while Fatimah perches herself upon the arm of it, one leg crossed over the other. Silence echoes through the room before Fatimah, ever the bold one, takes the first step, breaking through the ice.
“So… what’s this job of yours, Barrett?” As if asking about the weather, she broaches the topic easily, like this is a rehearsed line from a play. “Unless this about the… cashing in your bet?” Now it’s her turn to flush a bit, and for Barrett to blush a deeper red as well.
“N-no, this is… it’s about a friend. A client of mine, she’s gone missing… and something happened to her mother, I think.”
“Oh, really? Tell me more.” Fatimah inquires, dropping from her perch on the chair of the arm to go to the minifridge and pull out a bottle of water. Barrett nods, before continuing.
“So, I’m in charge of her estate’s finances… and her mother typically receives a monthly stipend… but it hasn’t been touched yet. Then, I received a call from the Sheriff’s Department here, that her finances may come into rough water. When I asked more about it, they said that I needed to talk to Mint… But how do you talk to a person who’s been missing for weeks?” Barrett mumbles this last part to himself and the floor his eyes downcast. Taking a sip of water, Fatimah wanders back to him and tousles his hair before crouching down beside him. A small smile crosses her face as she looks up at him with gentle, brown eyes.
“Alright, I understand… but what’s the plan, Barrett? How’re we going to help her?” Barrett can’t help but notice the faint strain on the word ‘her’ as Fatimah says it. Jealousy is felt in all people, it seems. Still, the pang that follows makes him grimace. Her feelings won’t make this any easier.
“Well… I’m going to need you to disguise yourself as her.” Barrett pulls out his phone, and pulls up a picture of himself and Mint, faces ridiculous and silly. It took a bit of work, but he’d managed to get it off of the Big House’s antique of a computer and on his phone, a note of personal pride. Still, Fatimah doesn’t seem convinced, if the frown is anything to go by. She looks from the picture to him with an ever-deepening frown.
“Barrett, I hate to tell you the immediate flaw in this plan, but-”
“Oh, that I can take care of,” he assures her, slowly pulling himself out of the chair. “That is, if you trust me.”
“...I do.” She nods, and both finally smile, nervous and excited at the same time.
“Alright, then I need you hold out your arms for me, and look straight ahead.” Barrett nods, as Fatimah does as instructed. Slowly, his hands trace above her, never touching as he works his magic. Minutes pass, but finally, Mint stands before him. At least, in appearance. Brown eyes become blue, and her headscarf has been infused with the Mist to appear as a sheaf of flowing blonde hair. A tear slips down his face as he works, and it doesn’t escape Fatimah’s notice. Smirking a bit, she playfully teases the Child of Mockery.
“Is this that hard to do that you’re crying, Barrett?”
“No, it’s not that… just that there’s a lot of feelings.” He admits, raising his arm to dab away the tears before continuing to work.
“...What do you mean, a ‘lot of feelings?’” Fatimah asks, in a surprisingly acidic tone. Hearing those words come from Mint, and the frown crossing her face, Barrett tries to quickly change tracks.
“Ummm… well, you look great as a blonde!” And in that moment, Barrett realizes that was the decidedly wrong thing to say. Turning in a huff, Fatimah goes and locks herself in the bathroom. Barrett quickly goes to the door, knocking on it.
“Oh, Fatimah, that’s not how I meant it!!”
“Right, that’s why you said it after showing me that picture!” She says, her voice muffled through the door. Barrett’s face is a mix of concern, confusion, and just an overall grimace of displeasure at himself.
“I was just saying that… Oh, dammit… Look, I screwed up, okay? I shouldn’t have said that, especially after you didn’t look like you. I’m sorry.” Take that one to the bank, it’s probably worth more than the Saints funding, an apology from Barrett Cross. Silence is the reply, before Fatimah speaks once more.
“...I want a picture of us like that.”
“Umm… okay.” Barrett replies to the quiet demand, relieved that it could be resolved that simply. A moment, then two pass before Mint… no, Fatimah unlocks the door and manages a small smile.
“Alright… let’s get to work then, cutie.”
Clark County Sheriff’s Department
Theme Tertia
Barrett and Mint make their way into the building, faces set in grim determination. A temporary plan had been set into motion during the cab ride there; Barrett’s going to do the talking, be the overbearing lawyer to his distraught client. Once inside, Barrett goes to the front desk, ringing the dainty bell to get the secretary’s attention. As she looks up, an expression of shock and terror crosses her face. Barrett’s used to that, but here? He’s never been to Vegas before.
“He-he-Helena??” The secretary stammers, prompting a look from Fatimah to Barrett, who quickly interjects.
“Lillian Mint to see Investigator Cornfield.” The woman looks from from Barrett and then to Fatimah, her expression raising questions as to whether or not she should doubt that ghosts are real. Stuttering, she manages a shaky reply.
“Oh! O-of course, sir… But who are you?”
“Oh, I’m Barrett Cross, her personal lawyer and financier. Number is 0224223, if you need to check.” He says with a small laugh. The ID isn’t one for Nevada, but for a lawyer in a New York firm. Surely he won’t be too worried about an incidental case like this. The woman nods, pressing a button on her desk phone.
“Investigator, you have two people to see you. A Mister Cross, and Miss Mint- huh, yes, that Mint, by her looks. Just like her mother.” She pauses a few times, nodding and replying as appropriate before returning the phone to its cradle and looking back to the pair before her and gesturing to a door down the hall.
“The right at the end of the hall, he’ll be expecting you. Would either of you care for tea, water? A snack?” An odd stare crosses her face as she looks up at Fatimah. Looking rather uncomfortable with the woman’s gaze on her, she offers a shrug.
“Umm… water and some graham crackers, I guess?” Barrett raises an eyebrow at this, doing his best to hide a faint smirk as he sets down the hall.
“Come along, Miss Mint. We shouldn’t keep the Investigator waiting. Surely he’s a busy man.” He calls as Fatimah follows along. Partway down the hall, Barrett offers a small chuckle.
“Graham crackers? Why not ask for a juice box too- ow, hey!” A sharp punch to the upper arm is his reward, as Fatimah glowers at him with Mint’s blue eyes.
“I like graham crackers, what’s your point?” She says in a dangerously quiet voice. Barrett, deciding to be diplomatic about this, simply goes to the door and holds it open for her. Inside, a man with salt and pepper hair rises to his feet, a careworn smile crossing a face that is apparently on passing terms with a razor, if the stubble gracing his cheeks is anything to go by. Stepping up, he offers a hand first to Fatimah, then to Barrett. A strong confident grip for a man in his prime.
“Miss Mint, and Mister Cross, a pleasure to see you both, thank you for taking the time to to come and talk with me. Please, take a seat.” He gestures to a pair of wooden chairs across from his leather office chair. The pair are seated, as the man continues, “Now, I’ve got to say, you have been a most challenging young woman to get ahold of, Lillian. We’ve tried calling for days, and haven’t had any luck.”
“Yeah, well, bootcamp isn’t exactly a place that gets the best reception.” Fatimah shrugs, toying with a lock of her blonde hair.
“Funny, we even called the bootcamp and demanded to talk with you, but…. Well, we didn’t get you, can you explain that?” The question is an idle one, but the Investigator's eyes show far more than his casual expression does. As Fatimah tries to remember Mint’s upbringing, Barrett takes the time to jump in.
“She’s been out on leave of late, Investigator,” he explains. “What with her grandmother’s death and the exchange of power her dynasty is going through, it’s understandable, honestly. We, meaning her executors and myself, thought it best to keep her fortune out of the picture. We don’t want anyone thinking she’s better than she actually is.” Oooh, the withering glance there is enough to tan Barrett’s arms through the suit, as Fatimah glowers at him. The Investigator simply laughs, nodding along before clicking on a few things on his computer.
“Ah, of course, that’s completely understandable then, yes. As for you Mister Cross… We ran a search on your name as well, and found some most interesting information about some escapades in King County up in Seattle… Know anything about those.”
“I can’t say that I have,” Barrett lies effortlessly, the words flowing like honey from his lips to the Investigator's ears. The man nods in a daze for a second or two, before the secretary returns, water bottles and a sleeve of graham crackers in hand. Smiling, she hands the treat to Fatimah, and puts a water bottle down beside each guest. That seems to draw the Investigator out of his reverie, and he leans forward to ask another question.
“That’s not all you’re eating, is it?” Throwing Fatimah off-guard, she shrugs before slowly answering.
“...Yes?” It’s not like she was expecting a full meal or anything here. The Investigator sighs softly as he watches her open the sleeve and start nibbling at one of the crackers.
“I guess you’re more like your mother than just appearances would suggest… Why’s it always the pretty ones who starve themselves?” He sighs, his question punctuated by a sharp crunch as Fatimah snaps off the cracker. Luckily, Barrett interposes himself before a sharp retort is issued.
“Helena starved herself?” Well, that was certainly news, to say the least. Barrett leans forward as well, unintentionally mirroring the Investigator's position.
“Well, it’s not the official cause of death…” he notes, before looking to Fatimah. “But first I have questions that I need to know the answers to… Like how Lillian was the last person to see Detective Acrobat before he was murdered here in Vegas… Nowhere near where she was stationed. Care to help out, Miss Mint?”
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. Barrett has no clue of the right answer to this, Mint’s been gone for too long. How can Fatimah know? Still, the woman keeps her cool, before carefully replying.
“He was bringing me to see my mother, he said. Said that he had a surprise for her, and wanted me to be with. Why wouldn’t I go with him? Oh, and I know that I’m not supposed to sit in the front seat of a squad car, so that’s why I was in back.”
Clever girl, Barrett thinks. It’s all he can do to not smirk as the Investigator continues his line of questioning.
“And why you ran from a murder scene?” A murder? Just what happened to Mint that she was in police custody and getting involved in murders? Again, Fatimah has an answer.
“Well, after Acrobat… you know, I was… I was scared, alright? I just watched someone get shot… and wasn’t at bootcamp. Do you think I wanted to deal with that, too?” She crosses her arms looking back up at the Investigator who nods, pulling back.
“I see… I always thought that Helena had raised a more… stoic daughter. You were so quiet and well-behaved the last time you were here with her,” Cornfield notes with a raised eyebrow, prompting an interjection from Barrett.
“Sir, my client’s character isn’t something in question here. She’s been in bootcamp for several months,there’s little reason not expect some degree of change in temperament.” He points out, casually scanning the man for a few of his tics, as well. Barrett has to cover his face with hand to mask the smile that crosses his face. Someone is… well, was bothered by Acrobat, and if the mother is anything like the daughter, he knows why. Man, he’d even feel a sense of kindred spirit with this man in a different life. Cornfield continues on regardless of Barrett’s silent discovery.
“That may be, sir,” a stinging tone is drawn through it, “but I cannot excuse her actions, nor do I believe that Hele- Lillian would do such a thing,” he hurriedly corrects himself midway through, but he wasn’t quick enough to cover that cue from Barrett, who quickly puts up a retort, looking like an amused housecat all the while.
“I think you’re projecting some feelings onto my client that you shouldn’t be, Investigator.” Barrett notes with his classic crocodile smile. “What business is it of hers just how much like her mother you think she should be?”
“It’s that way because, uh… I mean, I didn’t mean to-”
Barrett watches the Investigator finally sweat, to feel what he and Fatimah felt during the beginning of the meeting. When the Investigator stutters into silence, wheels having spun into the mud, Barrett speaks once more.
“Look, it’s none of my business, but you’re being pretty hard on Miss Mint, if you ask me. She witnessed a murder. And yes, she ran. What testimony could she provide if she was that blinded by terror, to the degree that Helena’s training failed her? I’m personally glad that she chose to flee, I’d hate for more blood to be on someone’s hands because of foolish pride.” Barrett’s tone is soft and gentle, perhaps even a bit conspiratorial with the man sitting across from him. “We want to help how we can, but we don’t know anything...can you imagine how Lillian feels here, you haven’t even told her what happened to her mother, Investigator. Please, the only way we can help is if you help us… For Helena.” He gives an appeal to the emotional tie he’s confident that the Investigator has, knowing how he’d respond if someone came to him in such a way regarding the junior Mint. A moment or two passes, before Cornfield finally nods, acquiescing.
“Alright… I’m sorry, Lillian. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that.” A chastened man, Cornfield hangs his head low as he offers Fatimah the apology. She nods gently, looking at Barrett in surprise. This was a far cry from the criminal she knew from Seattle.
“Now, can you tell us what happened to Helena, please?” Barrett inquires, as Cornfield draws in a shaky sigh.
“...She’s dead, first off. Killed her partner, er, ex-partner, and then herself. She quit the force a few days ago, after not showing up, no calls, nothing. We have no clue where she was before that, the number was blocked and we can’t get a bead on the location itself; she could’ve been calling from a block away, or halfway to France for as much as we know,” he says with a heavy sigh. “As for reasons… well, that’s why we wanted to talk to you, Lillian,” he turns to Fatimah, a frown crossing his weary face, “You say that Acrobat wanted to surprise your mother? Did he say what that surprise was, or did he do anything unusual?”
“No… not that I recall.” Fatimah says quietly, and is rewarded with another sigh from Cornfield.
“I suppose not… that would’ve been too easy. I’m going to be frank with you, Lillian, Mister Cross… We’re looking at a murder suicide, here. With Helena shooting Acrobat, then herself. We’re operating on the belief of mental instability prompting this. The starvation and sudden withdrawal following the death of your grandmother seems to make that a logical conclusion for us… Not that it makes things easier to hear, by any means. We’ve lost two good people.. And I hate to think that it’s because of one of my officers…” A lethargic sigh escapes him as Fatimah looks to Barrett, before she speaks up.
“Investigator...I think I left a few things when I ran away… Was anything found?”
“Hmm… oh, unfortunately not.” Cornfield shakes from his reverie, working to get back to the task at hand. “Wait...we do have one thing that’s unusual…” Pressing a button on his phone, he speaks slowly and clearly.
“Miss Marni, please bring me what we found outside the factory.” A few moments pass, and a plastic bag is delivered to the office. Inside, a single, snowy white feather rests. A few flecks of red can be seen on the outer edge, but it is unmistakably from Mint’s plumage. Cornfield looks from it to Fatimah, gesturing it out to her.
“The blood is Detective Acrobat’s… is this your feather? We didn’t find anything else there, so I’m not sure where you lost it, if not there…”
“No… it’s not mine. Why would I have a feather?” Fatimah questions, but Barrett’s mind is running in overdrive. She was here, Mint was here. But… now she’s not. If there’s blood, something happened… Would her mom kills someone in front of her? Barrett isn’t sure, but he doubts it. While they’re certainly not a Brady Bunch pairing, Helena and Lillian, he doesn’t think that their relationship is that strained. So, what happened to Mint…?
“Were there any signs of people beyond the deceased and Miss Mint?” Barrett asks, receiving a shaken head in reply.
“No, that’s something we wanted to know from Lillian… If she could give us more, I wouldn’t have to say an officer, that Helena was responsible for this… I…. We don’t have anything to go on besides the scene I’ve described, and it seems pretty open and shut, honestly. We’ve tried reaching out to Detective Acrobat’s daughter, but haven’t gotten a reply. She’s always been a hard one to reach, apparently. Acrobat would talk about how hard it was just to get a text from her when she was in college… typical teenagers, right?” He looks to the two across from him, a ghost of a smile on his face. “But look who I’m talking to, huh?” The silence in the room is deafening as Cornfield gives one last heavy sigh, reaching into his desk and pulling out a business card. On the other side, he quickly writes out a number and address.
“Here’s the daughter’s phone number and college. If you can get her to talk to me, I’d greatly appreciate it. Unfortunately, I don’t speak MTV, so I’m hoping she’ll listen to her peers instead. I… I don’t have anything else for the pair of you, unfortunately. You’re dismissed, if you’re missing bootcamp, Lillian.” He manages to give a hollow laugh at the lackluster joke, and Fatimah rises from her chair, her movement mirrored by Barrett at her side. Reaching over the table, Barrett extends a hand to the defeated Investigator, smiling a somber, sad smile.
“Your help is much appreciated, Investigator. If Miss Mint remembers anything, anything at all, we’ll be in contact with you the moment it happens.”
“Thank you, Mister Cross. That… that’s a welcome comfort, one that’s sorely needed, I think. Let me know if you ever want to practice in Nevada as well… we could use someone as sharp and annoying as you.”
“I’ll give it a thought,” Barrett notes with a faint smirk, managing to eke one out from the Investigatoras well. At the very least, he’s not arresting either of them, which makes this the best encounter Barrett has ever had with the authorities; he’d had no intention of getting a private tour of the Clark County prison, nor did he have the time. With muttered goodbyes, Fatimah and Barrett make their way out of the room, and then the Sheriff’s department. Once they’re free, they duck into a back alley, where Barrett dispels the Mist surrounding Fatimah. Gone is the Mint facade, leaving the mischievous young woman he was so confused about beneath. Still, her eyes don’t promise mischief; they only promise concern for the young man.
“You okay, Barrett? That… that’s a lot to think about, what you heard in there.” She admits, toying with the fringe of her headscarf now that it’s no longer flowing blonde hair. It’s a cute gesture honestly, one that Barrett had never seen her do before. A small smile crosses his face as he feels his heart tremble.
“I… I’m not sure what to think, honestly. All I know for sure is that she was here, and that she’s definitely in trouble… I’ll need to regroup and think about what to do…”
“So, you’re going back to camp, then?” She raises an eyebrow as she asks, and Barrett nods. “Well, you’ll need to get back quickly, then… So that ruins my plans.” She sighs softly, a small smile crossing her face. “I thought we could have a bit of a vacation here, enjoy ourselves a bit.”
“I’m sorry, Fatimah, I genuinely am.” And strangely enough, Barrett does feel remorse; he’s genuinely sad that he can’t stay… but he knows that he can’t, that he needs to press on. “I’ve got to find her before it’s too late, you know I’d do the same for you, right?”
“You… you would?” Apparently, she did not, if the shock and faint blush crossing her face is anything to go by. Biting her bottom lip ever so slightly, she shakes her head quickly, perhaps harder than necessary. “That’s not here or there, Barrett. Your friend is in trouble, and you need to find her. I’ll take care of talking to Acrobat’s daughter, I’ve got free time… and your suite.” She winks playfully, before reaching into her pocket and pulling out her phone.
“But before you go, I want my fee for helping.” She shakes the phone and pulls Barrett close. Laughing softly, Barrett puts on a smile for her; a small, yet genuine, one. For a moment or two, Fatimah mirrors his expression, before suddenly leaning in and kissing his cheek, snapping the photo before the shock registers on the Child of Mockery’s face. Pulling away, she giggles softly as she looks at the picture. Leaving Barrett in awe, she waves as she runs out of the alley, waving to him and tossing out one last farewell.
“See you soon, cutie!” Her voice rings out, bright and cheery into the hot Vegas afternoon. Barrett, after a few moments, finally stumbles out of the alley after her, a hand raised in farewell. A taxi, seeing the gesture, pulls to a stop, before calling out, “Hey kid, where you goin’?”
“Huh?? Oh, ummm… Bring me to McCarran, I’ve got to get home.”
“You and me both kid, let’s go.”
Camp Half-Blood, New York
Theme Quarto
Barrett returns to Camp Half-Blood, two flights and an interrogation under his belt. His eyes are weary, and he’s in dire need of sleep; flights not being his favorite experience. Still, a smile crosses his face despite the dire information he’s acquired. Staring down at his phone, he admires the picture of the dark-haired boy and the girl pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek, a heart frame festooning the border all the while.

[Table] IAma Las Vegas Nightclub Promoter. Ill clear up any misconceptions or reservations you have about this BEAST that's known as "The Strip". AMA

Verified? (This bot cannot verify AMAs just yet)
Date: 2014-02-27
Link to submission (Has self-text)

Questions	Answers
What's the best way to go about getting a table/bottle service without completely breaking the bank? It's Vegas so of course it's not gonna be cheap by any stretch but do you have any tips to get the most bang for your buck?	Stay away from clubs that have a Major Dj/ Act on that night. Fridays and Saturdays are the worst. They'll price you according to how many people you have. For example at Encore beach club, if you have 6 in your group they'll price you at $1k-1500 to start with. Night clubs usually start at 4/bottle. If you have women with you get them inside through a guest list. They'll get in free. Example, its 4 guys and 4 girls they'll want to get you on a two bottle minimum. Instead have the guys walk in for the one bottle minimum and let the girls know what table number youre at. TA-DA! Youll also get just enough seating for 4-6 but fuck it, youre in a club so get up and have fun!
	Its all about real estate. If you just want to have a table to enjoy your own space and not have to worry about waiting at the bar then get a table situated off the side. Also give hosts a hard time, don't just say YES to the first offer. Maybe see if they can throw in a bottle of champ or something. Or a buy two get one free.
Whats the craziest thing you've seen in vegas?	Craziest? uhm sex inside clubs. Sex in cabs. Sex out in the open. A girl once was sooo fucked up that she was walking around The Aria with only a bikini bottom and a fishnet top. That's it. Fishnets used to catch Whales so a whole tit, and she had very nice sized tits, pretty much was hanging out. You could see a wave of jaws drop and conversations stop as she walked by with her drunk friend and their two guy friends. Ahh memories. But all in all, drugs, sex, and money being spent on the craziest things. Hobos fighting with themselves. Brides-to-be doing the walk of shame. Craziness.
Walk of shame? How do you mean?	Still in the clothes that they wore the last night. Usually because they spent the prior night with someone that they shouldn't have. But its Vegas, spend your night with whoever you can!!! Yaaay!
Hobos fighting themselves? Like, Tyler Durden style?	I saw a hobo talking to himself. He then got mad at himself and started punching himself in the gut. I didn't know who to put my money on.
Helix or dome fossil?	Helix.
What is the biggest scam on the strip?	Id say paying for club passes that are to be had for free. Biggest scam is paying for these wrist bands that promise you no line, no cover, and open bar all night. And its on a night when Tiesto or Zedd is playing. Yeah right, youre showing up to the club and they'll laugh at you. And after you tell them that you gave $30 to someone that seemed honest and even gave you his/her number. I once met a group of 26 girls from a sorority from AZ that each paid $25. After I told them that it was fake two out of the seven girls started tearing. I got them on guest lists to access the clubs for free with one offering an open bar. Was happy to alleviate some of the pain.
	Oh shit, I forgot! The guys that bring out their tables on the strip and do the whole follow the ball thing. The people winning work with them. Watch them, they'll win and make sure they let out a WHOOO really loud and make sure people are looking. They lure in others and make it look really easy to win. I once saw a guy lose $1700 and a thick heavy as fuck gold chain in less than 3 minutes. he got on his knees and asked for some of it back . The guy gave him $200 because the idiot said it was the last of his money and was with his wife and three kids. Greed I tell ya.
It's always hard for me to believe that in 2014, people actually still fall for that shit... I mean, it's completely unmodified, it's literally a movie cliche scam.	Exactly. I'm like really. Really people? I once saw a guy paying out $300 to 3 ladies and 2 dudes for helping. Imagine what he kept.
"A fool and his money are soon parted". Sounds like vegas exemplifies this adage?	I pondered how to answer this question for too long. Short and simple... yes. Perfectly.
What's the best way for a middle-aged couple to do clubs? We love the music but feel ridiculous (which kills the fun) queuing up with beautiful twenty-somethings.	First off, you wouldn't be the only middle aged couple. I see them all the time. Some just kick back and drink and then some are dancing all night and don't give a shit what anyone else thinks. Let me know what days you are here and I'll put you on some guest lists so you don't pay cover.
Where can I find those hot dogs?	At the Casino Royal, next to the Venetian. All the way in the back. Michelobs for $1 at the bar at the entrance.
What about the shots?	Bally's Casino. Taco joint in the back.
Sunglasses inside a nightclub. Fucking douche-bags or clever way to hide pupil dilation?	Fucking get the fuck out of here. I cannot say "fuck" enough when I see those idiots in the club. I hope they slip on spilled beer, fall on sticky residue and get up right when the confetti is shot out.
Did someone stab you with sunglasses or something?	No, they stabbed me with audacity... audacity to wear them inside a club. I guess its because I'm a form follows function type of guy. Sunglasses inside would only be ok when you're covering up a black eye from a beat down or your bloodshot red eyes would give away that you've been on a drug binge.
This is a long shot, but my friends and I are going to be in vegas for EDC, we plan to stay a week, is there anyway you could hook us up when EDC is over?	Sure. Text me before you're here and ill let you know what I can do. Worst case ill be able to do a reduced cover. 7736200454.
You are now in my phone as Vegas promoter. I do Vegas about 6 times a year. So expect a text soon and if your down I'll buy you a few beers.	You had me at "Beers".
Hey DisasterBUSE, got a question for you. I'm not really a club guy but I do like to go to bars. What are some of the better bars in the casinos that are good for someone who just likes to have a few drinks in between gambling. Also are there any good rock clubs in Vegas? If so, what are the called and where are they?	The Wynn and Encore are very lively at night. If you want to gamble and drink with a great view, that's the place. Venetian, Palazzo, Bellagio, Aria, and last but not least The Cosmopolitan ate great places with great energy. The clubs SurrendeEncore Beach Club and XS have gambling tables in case you'd like to soak a little of the scene in while playing a few hands.
How's papa Giorgio?	Not sure but I think he might look something like this nowadays.
Going to vegas for a cousins bachelor party from May 14 to 18. I am a student got any tips for me to be money wise? as the people I am going with are all older professionals with money. Any hook ups? thanks!	Do most of your drinking at slots, tables. Ill put in $10 in a slot, and sometimes not even gamble at all. Cocktail servers come around and ask if I want drinks..."two vodka/tonics please" and tip her $4. If youre doing any pool parties and not doing bottle service you might want to get tickets before hand since theyre cheaper than paying at the door. Flasks flasks flasks! Let me know if I missed anything that concerned you.
In all seriousness, I'll be in Vegas for the opening weekend of the NCAA tournament. Know of any awesome places (besides the casino sports books) to catch the games?	Bars off the strip are always great. No pressure and decent pricing on booze. unless youre willing to pony up and do Lagasses place at Venetian or something.
What's the most common misconception about clubbing and how do you correct people about it?	That theyre impossible to get in, theyre not fun, expensive to get in, girls are hard to meet/ leave the club with. The club I work for 75% of the times im able to get couples in free provided that they show up early. On slower nights Im able to get uneven ratios in (more guys than girls) or give tickets that grant free entrance. And the ladies. To me they all look the same BUT its hard to get over it. Ive seen guys pick up ladies super quick and they only had a beer in their hand, you don't need a massive table with free drinks galore. Theres a lot of girls in the clubs that have awesome personalities but have their guards of because theyre just not comfortable with being groped. Approach them in a non creepy way and youre golden. I see this every week. What surprises me is how many people come to vacation here and are just total Debbie downers. The most amazing thing about this place is that people come here to have fun and dance theyre asses off, even when they have no clue what theyre doing. Walk in to a club through a guest list and get in free, have a drink and enjoy an amazing sound system. Even if its for 30 min, I feel its large part of the Vegas experience.
Good answer man! I'd love to have your job	Theres a lot of bad that come with the jobs. A significant other will not be happy with your phone blowing up until the early morning. A lof of girls are absolute bitches and think the whole world owes them something for having their tits out. Its a hustle and with every "NO!", "EWW", and "I HAVE A BOYFRIEND CREEP" you have to keep on and hope the next says yes. And please note, I always approach with something non creepy like "Hey ladies sorry to interrupt, have you been invited to see Macklemore & Ryan Lewis tonight on a guest list"?
I've always wondered you guys must get paid pretty good money right? (There was one particular promoter I always stuck with until he recently moved) but this guy had an assistant and took nice trips I kinda just always wondered how that system works. And do Diplo and Dillion Francis put on good shows? I wanna see either one sometime soon	Great question. First off Diplo is at my workplace tomorrow night so best believe Ill be instagramming tons of Videos. All of Maddecent are awesome. Dillon Francis and Diplo are both awesome. Tons of ass shaking tomorrow for sure!
	So everyone pays differently. I only work at SurrendeEncore Beach and have a day job so my time is limited. So Ill breakdown promotions as much as I can. First off there are different types of Promoters. You have the ones that work at a club like yours truly. Since I only work at SurrendeEncore Beach club, which is run by Las vegas Nightlife Group. I only get paid for people that come to my club. XS and Tryst are owned by the same people and we are all located at the Wynn/Encore. You then have Tao Group, Angel Management Group (AMG), and Light Group. Tao clearly has Tao, Tao beach, Marquee and Marquee Dayclub. AMG has (or had, Hakkasan just bought the group out). Hakkasan, Wet Republic, Pure, LAX, Chateau, Venus, Coyote Ugly, Saville Row. LG runs Light, Daylight, Haze, 1Oak, The Bank and a few lounges/restaurants. Tao group promoters can have guest lists at all their venues so if they leave a group with a great impression and they check in on their guest list at all joints then the person just made $ times the number of venues they checked in. Light Group usually confines their employees to one club, unless they need help filling out another (which they usually do) and allow them to be paid (I waited 8 months to get paid by them, I don't like the way they manage their places). AMG varies as well, I heard some are only focusing on Wet and Hak but heard that before they had to have a certain amount check in at other properties. With all this said, if youre a good promoter, hardoworking, and have a good network, 1k a week is a cakewalk. Even 2k can be done for the greater part of the summer. I know of a guy that can make 4-8k/wk and its all through his phone. Money can be real good IF you work hard and hit high numbers. Ill elaborate a little more later on tonight if anyone wants me to. I need to head home.
If you feel like elaborating, what's the difference between the 1k a week promoter and the promoter making 4-8k?	Well if you don't bring any people and ate not being paid hourly then you might not get a check at all. Those that are successful in this biz network hard, are usually seasoned, and are good enough to the point that clients want to go back to them and refer them to others. Ive heard of hosts being flown to exotic places, gifts being custom made as gifts, and so on. Its really like any other sales job, many do it, some are good, few are great. There are also many ways to make money. You can book hotel rooms, sell packages, etc. where you receive a kick back. When done right its a win/win/win.
What's are your experiences like with the Vegas drain dwellers? Any good stories?	Theyre all over the place. Usually just getting drunk and laying out on the sidewalk. I pay no attention to them. Some have demanded money and when I tell them I have no cash or simply say "sorry, cant help ya" at times can get very aggressive. Then they fall on their ass or something. Comical most of the times. Look at them too long though it becomes depressing. The sad thing is I see a lot that are soo young. There was this young girl with a sign that read "pregnant with 2nd child and cannot afford anything. please help". I sat down next to her and asked her why she was out there. I asked if she sought help. I was baffled that such a young person could be so out of luck. She proceeded with a story about her losing her Social Security Income when she moved to Arizona or something. When she moved back they denied her or something along those lines. In the end it seemed like she lost hope and possible gave up too quickly. She said she didn't have family to turn to. Those are the moments when I realize that I am lucky to have a great family that would take me in if I ever went near that route.
Whats a good tip to you afer helpi. Some people out?	I don't ever expect to get tipped. I get paid by the club. There are always people who value what I do and slip me a $20,$40. The most I've ever been tipped was $160. It was for setting up someone with table service at a few clubs. Tips humble me, just buy me a shot and we're good!
Show up at club with a big line. What amount should you slip the bouncer to let you in and a date? What would you say? I'm always afraid i'll hand over a hundred bucks and he'll make me wait in line anyway.	Depends on the club. If its just you and a date Id say start at $40. Order of difficulty to skip the line from hardest to easiest: All guys> More guys than girls>even ratio mixed group>all girls. That being said if its just a guy and a girl then Id start out at $40, they might come back with $60-$80. If you feel like pulling their bluff thank them for the help but youll just wait in line. Sometimes they'll see $40 better than nothing. Imagine if he does that 10 times a night? Not bad...
	Another thing you might want to think about is say you just left at a restaurant that's in the casino. Id probably use the whole "My buddy So-and-so, manager at ___, told me to come check it out. I forgot the name of who Im supposed to ask though (maybe guess a name). Can we go in and check it out"? Worst case scenario is they say no, next is they let you pass and you pay cover, best thing is you walk in no line and no cover. Ive met people who have succeeded.
I read your comment about tipping and whatnot and how its not really necessary. i went last august with a group of 12 for my buddy's bachelor party and we got tables at light on a friday and lavo on a sunday. we tipped on both occassions, as i was under the impression that it was proper etiquette. for light we gave the guy a little over 200, and he was able to move us from a table on the 2nd floor in the corner to one that was pretty close to the main floor for the same bottle minimum (we had planned on giving him that much anyway before he moved us). at lavo we hooked the guy up with 100. were we too generous? or is that pretty standard?	A 20% gratuity is always on the bill plus 8.1% tax. Now, with the $200+ you gave the host you then bettered your real estate setting in the club. While you don't really have to tip your host its customary to throw them a bone. You can get your table and have everyone leave you be except your busseserver. Start tipping security and they will make sure the crowd stays clear of your area. Tip your host and they seat you at a better table. Tip a "girl-guy" and they will bring you hot ladies. Now with that last one be very careful, ladies that table hop are very thirsty and the only way for them to stay alive is to have a constant source of alcohol. Party too hard and your 2k table has turned into 8k. Or your 7k has turned into 22k. Ive seen this happen at many clubs. If you just hit it big at the tables or hit a progressive at the slots then fuck it, LIVE IT UP! (Im kidding, save a small town from hunger).
Do promoters make a huge difference in cutting the line, hooks, and discounts, and saving money? Rather than just walking into the club blind?	A good promoter wants your experience to be soo awesome that they contact you on their next visit or mention their name when a friend has Vegas plans. That said, our guest lists offer no cover or reduced entry. Express entry is only done when their at the ropes and have an incentive to get you inside faster. If youre a dude youll probably have to tip someone off to skip the line. When I come across a couple I always offer to set them up somewhere else the following night. Its simply good business and I believe in paying it forward. Before I moved to Vegas I made a trip with my SO and I know how hard the city can be without a hookup. I put myself in their shoes and do what I can for them. I always provide pics of my club and explain the whole line/open bar situation. I don't lie to them just for them to get in, it comes back to bite you in your ass.
So what's the best way for an international tourist to get some good coke? I've heard it's best to hire a limo and ask the driver. What do you think?	Be very careful. Vice (undercover cops) are all over and look the role they are playing. I once was walking in front of the Bellagio fountains and within a matter of seconds a couple of men, tattoos on their necks and all, went from talking to a guy one second to quickly pulling out their badges and handcuffing the man. All I heard was "under arrest for possession and intent to..".
I'm a you get guy and I like older women, what are the best spots to meet them? Just to let you know im23 so older form me is 30+	Check out the pools, casinos. There a ton of HOT older ladies. A difference between them and younger chicks: Mature woman have no problem having a drink, laying out, or just walking by themselves. You'll find these that are here for a convention and have nothing planned for the night. Whenever I get them on my guest list theres a 90% chance they'll show up. Two weeks ago I had a large group of 9 woman show up. Every. Single. One. Was. Hot!
What is the incentive for someone under 21 to visit Vegas?	To make it to 21 and join the fun! Now you have a goal. youre welcome.
	I kid, kind of. I approach many under 21 and they all look like theyre having fun. I don't even think theres a curfew so you can at least people watch while sipping on whatever. The city never sleeps. Jump on the roller coaster at NYNY or head to Strasphere and have some fun. Lots of walking and selfie opportunities.
Are there ways to get a table at a club for free?	If you have a group of great looking girls or have a local ID then yes, its possible. Youll only have to pay tip. $70-some odd bucks per bottle instead of $600 and change? not bad.
Does a promoter like yourself just walk up to us and say "hey, want a free table?"	It depends. For a group of all ladies and if theyre cute I can get them a table with champagne bottles for free. The clubs want pretty ladies in so some places offer then a free dinner and a free table. Every club is different. But if theyre hot my first questions is "so how many girls/guys with you" and when its all girls then its a go. Some clubs require a picture of all girls, it then has to be sent to a manager to approve the group.
Is that the real Caesars Palace? Did Caesar live there?	It was faxed it over bit by bit starting in the 60's. Yes Caesar lived there. Ordered tons of room service.
How often do people offer you drugs/money/sex in order to get into clubs?	Those younger than 21 are willing to give me their first born just to get in. I get offered tons of things, Im not surprised anymore.
Has anybody ever told you that you look like Ami James? Like if you tattooed your neck and stuff I swear you could pass as a double.	No but I see a resemblance. I always get Vin Diesel or Willie Nelson. Ok maybe not Willie.
What suggestions do you give for a small college restaurant/bar in terms of bringing people inside? Also what do you NOT suggest doing?	Suggestions like what works to get them inside your place?
Any place really! I've seen just about everything in my city but most bars here are dead(50-100k population being students alone!)	Its really location specific. Im from Chicago and Vegas is a whole different ball game. We deal with people that are here for a short amount of time. In the end though all places want bodies inside their place. Motion created commotion so if youre in a place that's packed and fun people want to stay and consume more. Most important, get bodies inside the club/bar early. Before 11 is key. That way any propect walking by sees that its busy and wants to be part of the fun. Does this make sense?
What would you recommend as far as afterhours edm parties go?	You might like Artisan. The times that Ive been there its been nothing but deep house and some edm. Really weird décor too, worth seeing. Body English and Drais usually mix it up.
What's the craft beer scene like? I've always been a fan of travel, and love checking out the local craft breweries/brewpubs in an area.	Sin City brewery at a few casinos, Big Dog Brewery, Banger Brewery in Downtown, Chicago Brewery to name a few. Yard House carries a few local brew I believe.
Chicago Brewing, at Rampart and Ft Apache was my stomping ground for the two years that I lived in Summerlin. I loved that place. Decent food and beer, and the upstairs bar area was perfect for baseball viewing. Good memories, thanks for reminding me of it.	I remember watching my first Bears game there. I got Goosebumps seeing all the people with their jerseys on. Refreshing in this transient city.
Hey, thanks for the AMA. What's the deal with dress codes at various clubs? Does it depend on night/weekend? Heading out to Vegas with a bachelor party in June, curious to get your thoughts on this and strategy for a group of 15 drunk idiot single guys.	You know, even I don't know. I mean if you're put together in a presentable manner than you shouldn't have a problem. If you stick to collared shirts and nice shoes then you're good. No athletic wear, no hats. Sometimes chucks slide but id rather you be safe than sorry. Clearly the day clubs are lenient on dress code, still no athletic wear. If you have a club in mind text me and ill make sure to find out what it is they are/are not tolerating.
You got me with the the VIP pass?	Hit me up and if I have tickets I don't see why not.
Whats the best nightclub on the strip?	Define Best and Ill tell you which one.
Surprise me.	My favorite is XS. Hakkasan is the latest and greatest. It cost $100m and was named Nightclub&Bars best top club for 2014. Light inside the Mandalay Bay is awesome. I like Surrender because its an outdoor club with a dancefloor inside (I don't like being shoved every two seconds). Tryst is also cool with a 90ft waterfall. Marquee has always done well and is a must visit (it also gets too crowded for me though). It really depends if you like dancing in the middle of the dancefloor, what kind of music you like, outdoor vs indoor. Then you have your older clubs that still have a following like Pure, Tao. Maybe its because they've been around FOREVER.
I fly around a decent amount, if I wanted to make Vegas a frequent destination how could I get in contact with you?	Buy calling/texting! 7736200454. Christopher Landeroz. Texting is way better, I can reply whenever.
Too bad doubles are 25$ there lol.	Yes, a simple sprite sets you back $7. $10 at Hakkasan! That's why I tell people to load up at a slot so you only need 1-2 more when you're inside the club. But the place is awesome. Awesome can be expensive =/
Do those mexican guys on the Strip throwing phamplets at anyone actually manage to get people to call those escort lines?	I talk to a few on a regular basis. Super nice people sweating their asses off and getting paid very little. According to one of them theyre just there to pass them out for a company. They almost never see a bonus for it. If the people they work for still have them up and down the strip passing them out then people must be calling. I don't know too much about the escorts you get from calling those numbers. I do know escorts that work for themselves though. Some of those chicks make tons of dough.
Do you know my cousin Tiffany?	Does she own jewelry stores all over the place? Make pretty lamps with stained glass? Kidding.
	Should I know her? Does she work there?
She used to work at surrender now she works at light.	Server? Promoter?
I'll be in Vegas for edc weekend. Any chance you might be able to hook it up with guest list? :)	Sure. I'm pretty sure we'll have some major talent that week. Message me sooner than later.
What are y'all gonna do when the water runs out?	I should be back home in Chicago by then. Maybe swap out water for Vodka or something.
Promoter.	Tae?
Yea, tay.	Didn't talk to her much but yes, I remember her.
Leaving for Vegas tomorrow for Spring Break/My Bachelor Party! Any way to to get a sweet deal on your club for Saturday night?	Madeon will be there Saturday night! Text me 7736200454.
My fiancee is bringing me to LV for my birthday in April. Any tips on birthday hook ups or perks I can get out there? We're staying at The Wynn.	Your hook up is right here! Text me or message me.
I'll be there next week, any chance you could hook me up? :) EDIT: It'll also be my 21st Birthday!	Of course! message me.
Wanna hook me up VIP style for my 21st in July?	Why not! Message me!
I'll be there with my best friend in two weeks for her birthday. Any way you can help us out?	Yup! Message me!
I highly recommend the show Absinthe in Las Vegas. I was there about two weeks ago and the show was AMAZING. Although, the humor in the show can be a bit vulgar so if you're offended very easily then I wouldn't recommend it.	This. Ive heard nothing but good things about Absinthe.
I am going EBC when it opens March 29th for my birthday. Can I contact you for bottles !!	Yes. Text me! Number is on my instagram profile or message me!
I'll have to check it out from Australia sometime :)	Aussie Aussie Aussie!!! Aussies have to be some of the best people that come out. Super friendly, party hard, and uhh party hard!
Headed to Vegas the weekend of April 11th for my cousins bachelor party. Staying at Hard Rock. Need some direction on clubs!	Message me, and Ill let you know whats hot. It usually boils down to hip hop or house (and don't get me started on todays "hiphop, Im oldschool but whatev), outdoor or indoor, daytime or night? Ill point you the way. you cant go wrong with the clubs at the Wynn/Encore though. Don't pay for anything online, sometimes they can be had cheaper here. Example: strip club packages for a bachelorette/bachelor party online charge $30-50 when I can get you the same thing for $7-45. A group of girls from back home (Chicago) were referred to me. For some odd reason one of them decided to buy a package for 9 girls. Turns out they overpaid by $135. Its the internet, they know that people like to preplan so they get you like that. Knowing what I know now Id book a room in advance (but would probably willing to try the last minute hotel sites, Ive heard great things about them) and tickets for clubs if it was all males.
So i'm going to vegas for the first time starting the 12th of march for my 21st birthday/ mountain west tournament trip what do you think the best clubs and pool parties are to go to to get the whole first time vegas trip experience	Are you the one who text me already? If not then here it goes: (shameless plug) Surrender its an indoooutdoor club. We book talent ranging from hip hop, trap to EDC, Dubstep. While there check out XS and Tryst. Hakkasan at MGM is new and pretty big. Light at Mandalay Bay is new as well. Great lighting and "powered by Cirque du Soleil", meaning performers hang from the ceiling and behind their LED screen. Marquee at the cosmo has always held their weight. Both indoooutdoor. You then have Hyde, Pure, Tao, Moon, Ghost bar and many others. During the day I'm pretty Sure Ghost bar dayclub (GBDC) and Lavo Brunch will be going on during the day on Saturday. Basically they're clubs open during the day. Encore Beach Club might be open and a few others. Those dates are right on the cusp of pools opening so its TBD as of now. Message me and ill see what I can do for you.
You mean you're a mexican immigrant who flips cards at people? Or you're a strip bar "concierge" who wanders the strip getting bachelor parties to go to Treasures? And those cheap beers and tequila shots are available at the Taco place in Ballys... duh!	Yes, glad I made myself clear. And not everyone knows their way around Vegas, just trying to help. Thanks for your contribution to the cause.

Last updated: 2014-03-04 02:08 UTC | Next update: 2014-03-04 08:08 UTC
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AirPads: The Signature at MGM Grand

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The Dorsey Cocktail Bar - The Venetian Las Vegas

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venetian casino floor pictures - win

My mom sent me this cool picture of the floor of the Venetian casino in Las Vegas!

Trip report: four nights at Encore for anniversary for $8500

Bar in the Sky [exhibitionism, MF]

[Trip Report] One week, three Brits.

Politicians show their cards in Las Vegas

Politicians show their cards in Las Vegas

Politicians show their cards in Las Vegas

Politicians show their cards in Las Vegas

Politicians show their cards in Las Vegas

The House Always Wins- Viva Las Investigation!

[Table] IAma Las Vegas Nightclub Promoter. Ill clear up any misconceptions or reservations you have about this BEAST that's known as "The Strip". AMA

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AirPads: The Signature at MGM Grand