In the middle of all the glitz and glamour and bros and hos and wine and slime is the Cosmopolitan's P3 Studio. What? Why?
I'm not entirely sure why the Cosmopolitan feels the need to commission monthly artists, but I like it a lot. Last time I visited, I left with a few colorful polaroid snapshots of myself and some basic knowledge of camera lighting and color theory.
So few people stop in here or even glance in its direction. Every time I visit, I feel like I'm entering some sort of secret, non-awful-casino space. It's a good feeling.