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| - I always say that if you're going to be friends or lovers with someone don't try to change them, either be their friend or don't be their friend. I don't like how silicon feels, and I'm not into fake boobs, but I
love Las Vegas' fake tits because my girlfriends have a peculiar pride in them. Personally, I would be horrified, surgery is surgery and it hurts and it is dangerous, but I guess it's the same pride as getting a tattoo.
Everyone who gets a boob job feels that to get their money's worth, they have to show everyone they can, so this includes all their female friends. I'll be sitting on the couch in their home and then they'll lift up their shirt and say, what do you think? Or fresh from a trip from LA, they will drag me to the bathroom and lift up their shirt. "This is what $5000 can do!"
Or the best one, my psychic mentor who is 88 years old and still wears leather pants and looks like Joan Collins tells me about her doing yoga and eating split pea soup. She stirs the pot and then lifts up her shirt, "Not bad for an 88 year old, huh?"
I have to say that fake boobs on my 88 year old psychic mentor look like a really fresh boob job on a twenty something.
Here's another thing, about facades and fakes. Vegas assumes everyone is a criminal. Whether you're a professional blackjack player with a computer strapped to your leg, or the little old lady who tries to take one of her silvers back after the dealer's hole card is shown, the cameras are on you wherever there is gambling, aka wherever there are slot machines which include the gas stations, grocery stores, shopping malls, bars, restaurants, and we're not even talking about the casinos.
It's very weird that I have to apply hand lotion and face lotion every two minutes because there is no humidity in the air.
And we haven't even started talking about the gambling. As an ex-card counter, I can tell you that card counting is not illegal, and it is super duper fun until you get kicked out.
I remember that when I was a dealer at the Dunes that I was "juiced" in and that I had to meet the GM first before anyone would send me down to the Sheriff's office to get my Sheriff's card. I'm still mad that my fingerprints are on file at the Sheriff's office. Oh well, there goes my career for the CIA.
Vegas doesn't even trust their own employees, you have to constantly show the eye in the sky that your hands are clean, 8 times a day, once every hour--talk about paranoid, and the city is so in denial about their paranoia that they offer everyone sex and booze just to make them more fuzzy, less inclined to do something clever, like stop gambling or going to strip clubs and drinking and doing lines of coke, or spending their children's college fund, or staying up 48 hours straight or getting married to the waitress from Ohio or buying that tranny prostitute for just 30 minutes, or drinking another shot of bourbon, or driving with open alcohol, or walking around with open alcohol or putting $10,000 on black, or buying crystal meth, which is the number one drug in Vegas, unlike most major cities number one drug, which is usually pot....I could go on, but now that I live in New York, I go to bed at a decent hour, and not at 5am like I used to.
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