Returning from my first trip to Las Vegas, I can now make several important observations.  The fourth is this:

Keep to the West

On our first night in Vegas, we walked up and down the strip from the Venetian to the Bellagio and back, trying out both sides of the street.  The changing mood from one block to the next tells how diverse the visitors are.

When planning our Vegas trip as a romantic Valentine’s Day getaway (that just happened to occur in September), I chose the Venetian as the best place to stay.  I’m told it was a good choice.

Walking in front of the hotel, classical music plays out over wide sidewalks, keeping guests immersed in the romantic atmosphere of Venice for the whole length of the hotel.  The effect isn’t as seamless as the music in Disney’s parks, but we definitely noticed it.

Crossing into the next block was like entering an entirely different world.  Loud music wafted out from casino floors that directly abutted the sidewalk, where free slot machines on the street offered promotional chips to entice people inside.  The ubiquitous smell of cigarette smoke was replaced with the even less pleasant aroma of cigars, and the sidewalks were narrow and packed with drunken tourists toting half-empty beer mugs.

At one corner I saw a woman performing a job that must be offered only in Vegas: standing there.  The casino wanted to call attention to a motorcycle (presumably because they were giving it away).  Feeling that the motorcycle itself wasn’t noticeable enough, they stationed a half-naked woman beside it all night, paid to simply stand there and divert the gaze of passersby.  Although I’m sure dealing with drunken tourists makes the job as challenging as any other, its description must have been incredible: “Duties: stand on sidewalk.”

For blocks, a long line of men stood with stacks of what look (at a distance) like baseball cards, flicking them loudly with their fingers to fill the street with a cacophony of clicks before offering the cards to every man, woman, and child passing by.  We didn’t take any, but saw them littering the the ground so densely that the pavement was often invisible.  On each leaflet: a different naked woman.  Given the illegality of certain “stronger” acts of nudity, I assume these were advertising either 900 numbers or strip clubs, though we never really stopped to investigate.

After watching the Fountains of Bellagio, we walked back up the west side of the strip to Treasure Island. It’s much better over there.  The tourists on the west side of the street were less drunk and more greedy.  The porn pushers on the east side seemed to find little value in crossing the street, and the cigar smokers kept away too.  Plus: the hotels just look nicer.

Throughout Vegas, I recognized three main groups of visitors.

First were the wealthy older gentlemen (and they were mostly men) who found themselves so bored of their money they wanted to gamble with it.  This crowd tossed black, $100 chips onto the tables as though they were the only currency available.  I almost never caught sight of them outside a casino.  One man came up beside us at the craps table and immediately had four different pit bosses come over to shake his hand.

Second were the young women (almost exclusively women) who had unfortunately forgotten critical portions of their outfits at home.  In town not for the craps tables, but the nightclub dance floors, they believed (correctly, I imagine) that their chances of getting in stood in direct proportion to the amount of their skin they exposed.  Since Las Vegas permits open containers along the strip, they and their escorts were usually holding drinks about the size of my arm.

Third were the fat, slovenly Americans — usually couples — who dominated the area in front of the Bellagio, Ceasar’s Palace, and The Mirage.  They didn’t come to Las Vegas, Nevada.  They came to Sin City, USA.  Looking for loose slots, all-you-can-eat buffets, and the gilded opulence of some of the Vegas resorts, they were everywhere at once — inside and outside — and usually in the way.

Plenty of people fell outside these groups, of course — casual tourists like my girlfriend and me, business executives in town for conferences, and Vegas locals having a night out on the town.  But watching the Big Three all mingling together in the same spaces was fascinating.

Just stay away from the east side of the strip.