Dear Las Vegas,
Upon reading the New York Times article this morning concerning your overall lack of recovery, a few thoughts sprang to the collective American mind that we thought we’d pass on, if only as a means of reopening the lines of communication on our terms.
The gist of the story is that while other regions across the US are slowly getting back on their feet, you are in the worst shape in history with no end in sight. Good. It couldn’t have happened to a more deserving desert snakepit of a city.
Why are we so venomous about your recent bad fortune (pun intended)?
Let’s begin by reminding you that your economic contribution to this nation is, in fact, deleterious. Your cultural contribution is your ability to combine all of the worst traits of Sodom, Gomorrah, Disneyland, the French Quarter, Bangkok, Versailles and Pleasure Island with none of the authenticity. The day you broke ground for the Civil War-themed hotel and casino, complete with bandaged slot machine arms, the Stonewall Jackpot gaming floor and the Underground Railroad nightclub, was simply the final straw.
We are collectively disgusted, and Steve Wynn’s fine art collection bought with the nickels of senior citizens does nothing to dissuade us.
“Unemployment in Nevada is now 14.4 percent, the highest in the nation; in Las Vegas, it is 14.7 percent. August was the 44th consecutive month in which Nevada led the nation in housing foreclosures.”
Statistics like these, if printed about virtually any other city (save D.C.),would surely generate sympathy. When they concern you, however, we are simply ambivalent. It is hard to feel anything but almost-tangible schadenfreude for a city that is part confidence scam, part aging prostitute, part schoolyard bully.
We have also not forgotten your infidelity to us, even though it is taking place in Macau. It’s bad enough to be a mark, but even worse to be the housewife mark while you cavort and canoodle with your more exotic, younger Asian mistress.
The unfortunate part is that we also know that you will recover, and if history is any guide, you will come roaring back with a vengeance. And when we are feeling better economically, we will return to your gilded facades and studio backlot-setups with open wallets and faulty memories in tow. We will allow you once again to seduce us and then carve out our organs while we sleep in hotel beds so filthy they make John Mayer’s sheets seem fit for a hospital.
So please understand that our glee at your current misfortune is merely temporary – upon finding employment for ourselves, we will resume allowing you to turn us upside down to shake out our pockets for a complimentary martini and the practiced flirtation of the jiggly waitress bringing it. Soon enough, Las Vegas, so leave the tacky lights on for us.
With lukewarm regards,
P.S. Yes, we recieved the 4 free nights including complimentary continental breakfast offer. We would take you up on it but continental breakfasts apparently don’t involve bacon or sausage. Tell you what, throw in a shuttle bus from the airport and a voucher for the breakfast buffet feeding trough and you got a deal. You take credit cards, right?