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| - You know what Paris Las Vegas reminds me of? No, not its namesake ...not Gene Kelly and Leslie Caron dancing along the Seine ...not Audrey Hepburn doing a fashion shoot for Fred Astaire. I think of - get this - "Xanadu", that circa-1980 roller disco place that coincidentally a much older Gene Kelly opened so that Olivia Newton-John could wear glitter spandex and sing with her armpits exposed. Yes, it has that same excessive, Disneyesque silliness but without the roller skaters with the fluorescent headbands. Instead, we have a condensed, miniaturized recreation of Paris' landmarks.
But the irony is that it's a pretty nice hotel if you can get past the expansive casino with the waitresses in their push-up bras and mini-tuxedos. The discounted $100 per night room Jamie W. and I had was clean and showed surprisingly little wear for ten years. The elevators, however, show signs of a few too many revelers' enthusiastic head-banging antics. Note the chipped mirrors at eye-level. But you can still stroll under the faux-blue skies of the faux-boulevards where faux-Parisian bistros, creperies and patisseries.
The other thing to consider about Paris Las Vegas is its central location along the Strip - just across from those dancing fountains in front of the Bellagio, down the block from all those useless Miracle Mile shops in the Planet Hollywood hotel, and prominent enough to have its own monorail stop. All good reasons to have the definitive Vegas experience here. But now you must excuse me as I join my sister muses and turn into a ray of animated light to get back to Olympus..."Now that I'm here ...Now that you're near in Xanadu ...Now that I'm here ...Now that you're near in Xanadu ...Xanadu!"
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