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| - Walking into this place is like stepping back in time. Circa 1978. Back in the day, my parents would come to Vegas to see Rich Little, Joan Rivers, and Frank. (if you ask "Frank who?" I will punch you in the crotch). And the Riviera was the place to be. Emphasis on WAS.
Today, it's just a relic of what used to be hot in 1970s Vegas. Oh, sure, they boast of "upgraded" rooms on their website. Really, it's just a change in furniture and new linens. That would be like your grandma getting a boob job. Her tits would look like they belonged on a 20 year old, but the rest of her would still be busted. Old, wrinkled, and hella busted.
So why did I stay here, you ask? Good question. I was here for a conference, and the room was pre-paid. If I could do it all again, I would have stayed at the Bellagio and commuted down the strip everyday.
This whole end of the strip is sketchy. Not as sketchy as downtown (a crack head once offered to eat me out. it was scary), but I wouldn't wander around outside after dark. I don't think that I would return unless someone paid me. Even then.....
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