You lie, I lie, we all lie. It’s a social necessity to function in day-to-day life. I’m sure that we can agree that most people don’t ACTUALLY want to hear a five minute diatribe about how your day was. We want to hear “fine” and then we can move on. Every service industry job is based around providing good service, but also doing it with a happy face and a smile. There is one scenario that is prominent in Vegas though, and that is the ‘Asshole Gambler’.
If you’re not playing slots, pretty much every other casino game has a dealer. Now, the dealer literally just deals the cards. Saying that the dealer has any control over the outcome of your game is like saying that the guy that sells you a lottery ticket has any control over whether you win or not. It’s ridiculous, but then again, I guess gamblers aren’t the most rational people. I’ve seen players just blow up at the dealer, bringing forth a litany of profanities, cursing their families, and in one specific outburst, describe in vivid detail how the dealer should violate himself with the deck of cards he just dealt. This of course, is unconscionable. Manners maketh man, be a gentleman, accept losing. Of course, if the dealer actually did control the cards, I feel like insulting him would just make the abuse even worse. The whole time of course, especially in the high-limit rooms, the dealer can’t say a word, and has to maintain a semblance of a good mood on his or her face because they live off of tips. We lie and we lie.
This become especially pronounced when I went to a Vegas nightclub for the first time. When I go to Vegas, I pretty much do everything else but go to a club, so to say this was an eye-opening experience would be to undersell it. I think I’m a loner by nature, I weave in and out of most situations with a light touch, trying not to impact much, unless the situation calls for it (which then, I swing a big fucking stick). This deftness is destroyed by a club. Everything in that situation forces contact with other people, which as you can probably tell, is awful. The amount of lies I had to tell within that small timeframe was pretty ridiculous. When you have a table, there are basically three types of interactions that happen. The first is with the staff. This is pretty harmless, and they generally want you to have a good time, treat them with respect, and things will generally go well. After this however, it’s just falsehood after falsehood. A group of girls want to sit at the table? Sorry, we’re waiting for our ‘friends’ to show up. A group of girls doesn’t want to sit at our table? Oh sorry, we already have a table….and yet you’re getting drinks at the bar?
Lunacy.
i guess it creates this facade of niceness, but I enjoy the bluntness of it all. Most of the people in Vegas are from the west coast. It was rare that I met anyone, especially women, who were from the east coast. That being said, when I did, it was like breathing fresh air. We would instantly connect over being strangers in a strange land. Say what you want about us east coasters, but we don’t waste time with small talk. It doesn’t mean that we don’t have manners or that we don’t look out for you, it means that we value both our time and yours, and yes means yes, and no means no. There is no try harder, there is no ‘maybe if’.
Hell, and that was just the night at Marquee.
