It’s 2010 and I’m at Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas – not my usual haunt. I’m here with a client, so I’m focused on work. But it ain’t easy.
Walking into the hotel made me grin. It’s like a foreign country; nothing is familar. The ping ping ping of the slots rings even at the hotel registration desk. I heard five different languages around me, and I could only identify two of them. Once inside, daylight disappeared and I entered that simulated evening that runs 24/7.
I’ve never been to Caesar’s, but it was fun to look around and see the over-the-top simulated art of Bernini, Michaelangelo, Tiepolo, Titian, Veronese, Donatello – who didn’t they copy here? And it’s all enormous.
I walked down to the Forum Shops, where people were standing around watching a dinosaur-scaled animatronic of Julius Caesar move jerkily through its paces; Chucky Cheese could’ve done it better.
But maybe that’s the point. Why entice people out of the casino with free shows? The hotel sucks you right back in, since getting anywhere means navigating another set of slots and blackjack tables.
Back in my room, I paid for the wifi so I could work. How slow is the wifi? Well, let’s just say that after I hit “Send” on an email, I had time to walk across the room, open my handbag, get out my camera, take a picture of my laptop and put the camera up before the email went. I guess that’s just another way they tell you, “What? Work? When the casino’s right downstairs?”