Learning stuff in Las Vegas

I don’t especially like coming to Las Vegas (which I have to do at least twice a year), but you have to stay open to things of interest wherever you go, right? This time a local told us how to spot ladies of the night in the hotel casino.

I would have thought the Sin City professionals were the young girls strutting by on six-inch stilettos with skirts skimming their hoo-ha’s and balloon-like breasts that defy gravity (and reality). If you thought that, too – we are both wrong.

Apparently ladies looking for business are generally much more conservatively dressed. They don’t wear much, if any, jewelry (if you’re leaving in a hurry you don’t want to leave anything valuable behind). And they don’t carry anything. No purse, no cell phone. I don’t know how that works. Is someone holding their car keys and other stuff somewhere else until they’re done working? Do they take credit cards, and if so, how?

This is the most intriguing thing I have learned on this trip. I dress conservatively and don’t wear much jewelry, but I’m old and not only do I have a purse and cell phone, but I also have my event binder under one arm and am usually dragging my “office” behind me in the form of a rolling bag stuffed with computer, supplies, etc. I  may even be wearing a name badge, which would not likely be the case with a professional lady. I think this explains why no lonely men have approached me. They would have to be lonely, poor and extremely desperate, now that I think of it.

At the risk of sounding like an old fuddy-duddy I have to say that the outfits you see some women wearing in Las Vegas can be flat-out shocking.  Slut-tastic personified.  These are not ensembles you would ever run across in good old Madison, Ohio.

I haven’t seen any men dressed provocatively, but it is entertaining to ogle the pumped up young guys, looking much like plastic action figures come-to-life. Since this was a March Madness weekend, there were small packs of them roaming the casino and pool areas. The uniform consisted of backward baseball caps, baggy cargo shorts, tee-shirts with slogans and flip flops. I don’t remember ever seeing any male under a certain age wearing anything different.

So that’s it for me in Las Vegas. I did meet some darling young ladies from Ireland in the elevator. They were dressed normally and appeared to have average body types. I couldn’t help wondering what they thought of this place and its colorful inhabitants. If I run into them again I think I’ll offer to buy them a drink. I’d like to know what the Irish think of  America’s most bizarre city.

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