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| - 1-star. Unf-ckingbelievable.
[Note: This review is for the GUYS ONLY; Ladies, please kindly divert your eyes & click the 'BACK' button. Thank you.]
Gentlemen - Let's chat for a minute.
I got married a few years back so I've hung up my game, but have we all not been screwed enough by Vegas as it is? Do we enjoy getting reamed in the wallet so much that we're looking for other ways to do so? Are y'all thinking, "Boy - y'know, I've got so much money coming out of my ass, I want to find yet another way to blow my wad & get nothing out of it. Gee - what have you got for me, Palms?"
LET'S REVIEW WHERE OUR MONEY GOES:
First, when we're in college, our most primal instincts tell us to hook up. So we go out, make some dough, buy nice threads, craft a nice do, pick up a few dance moves, & learn how to listen to women & carry a scintillating conversation about themselves as well as your work doing marketing for the Lakers, or working detail for the military, or your upcoming 6 month stint in the Peace Corp... or whatever hook it is you come up with.
But we're in Vegas now, bitch, & that's no longer level. Now you gotta pay club entry fees, get line passes, bouncer tips, bottle service if you're stupid, drink rates triple that of any other city. And just to GET IN to hand your money over, you have to get all kinds of backdoor hook up through a friend of the manager of the bar that knows a guy who's the brother of a bouncer over at Tao. And you have to bend over to listen to the intoxicated mumblings of some poor 5'1" inebriated girl TWICE as hard since there's 80dB club music playing all the time.
And oh - you gotta take your act up a notch: Now you're defusing bombs in Iraq, you used to actually PLAY for the Lakers, or you're a philanthropist that's funding a development of a vaccine for some incurable disease. And if that doesn't pan out, as a last resort you end up hitting some strip club. Rookies will undoubtedly meet "Sapphire" who picks their wallet clean, leaving them with no cab fare & they have to walk back to their friend's rented place at the Jockey Club - utterly penniless.
Yep. Them's good times.
PLAYBOY CLUB GAMING:
Oh but wait! Now, we've got the Playboy Club! Because apparently, there's not enough T&A floating around Las Vegas. It's not enough that our cocktail waitresses look like Jenna Jameson, high talent escorts blatently hang out in the lobbies of the Bellagio near Petrossian, & women dress to kill nightly just to get a few free drinks & a story they can tell their girlfriends. It's not enough that every hotel has a pool with a european bathing area & that there's 6 dozen strip clubs, & countless brothels in the city.
No sir! Now, we've got to have even our DEALERS butt-assed naked in Bunny costumes. And for this privilege, we guys are willing to play games with casino advantages never before seen by gamblers in Las Vegas before today. Now we have blackjack tables with a ludicrous disadvantage of FIVE TIMES the typical house edge. ($50 6-deck hit soft 17, 6-5, DD on 11 only, split once... on a CSM) The machines are tighter than a frog's ass - both slots & video poker. You'll see a Benjamin disintegrate in minutes on the $1 slots. Minutes.
PLAYBOY CLUB BAR/DANCE SCENE:
So that leaves the club scene which is more shades of dumb. I will grant that the décor is elegant or at least interesting (it looks remarkably like the frickin' Rhino) but other than that, the drinks average $14. Martinis made with a good vodka (READ: No KetelOne or GreyGoose) are $18. Mojitos for the girls take forever 'cause the bartender hates making them since they're difficult to prepare. The music is random. I have no idea who they're playing to.
The ladies aren't going to care, BTW. They might even enjoy a few moments there. They usually don't gamble much & don't have to front the bill for anything in Vegas so why should they give a damn. And the odds of you picking anyone up in this joint even if you manage to dodge the pros & the hired talent are slim to none.
And once again, we're willing to pay a $30 entry fee for the privilege of getting our heads handed to us - if not by the games, then by the bar tab.
WTF?
SERIOUSLY, WHY ARE YOU HERE?
- Real ladies don't hang out here - a good chunk of the talent are either hired help or they're freakin' pros.
- The table games are terrible. You can't win. Playing these games is like a tax on the mathematically-challenged.
- The bar is twice as expensive as anywhere else.
- The environment is the same except dimmer & smaller. Oh yeah. And there's boobies in front of you. Lucky you.
...either gamble or scam. Pick one! If you're really so horned up that you need boobies while you play, go to Hooters. They've got some decent talent there & some table games with odds worth playing.
This place is sheer evil; the equivalent of a roach motel for guys.
ONE-STAR, GOTDAMMIT!
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