Sunday, January 27, 2008

Viva Las Vegas

This is part two of my adventure. Let me backtrack a touch.

Three Ring and I both disliked the seediness of The Strip on first sight, and our hotel in particular. We thought our travel agent had really blown it, booking us so far away from the convention. In retrospect, with 100,000 people attending that event alone, it was probably the closest she could get us.

We were immediately disappointed with the lacklustre casino in our hotel. We tried venturing a bit further afield hoping to find something more happening, but were hampered by our feet worn out from the convention and his bad back. Places like the MGM Grand and The Bellagio were more physically impressive, but just didn't grab us. The Paris Las Vegas was too phony for words. Planet Hollywood was more lively, drawing crowds mainly because of the skimpy outfits waitresses were forced to wear. A quick sit at the bar told the tale.

The Miss America 2008 pageant was going on there, but we walked in too late to see any of that crowd. Apparently they turned in early. All of the attractive women at the bar were pros, save for one. Three Ring has a gift for starting up conversations with strangers, an incredible asset at the trade show, and quite entertaining after hours. This particular young woman was celebrating her 21st birthday, legal age in Nevada. This was her first night at the bar in Vegas and she was getting blitzed. She told us she was a music student in South Carolina, a mezzo-soprano studying musical theatre and jazz. She had a nice singing voice. I remarked that she must like Sarah Vaughan, to which she replied "Who?". When Three Ring told her that I was a sax player, she asked how I liked Kenny G (not the last time I was asked that in Vegas). My answer effectively killed our conversation.

She introduced us to her mother, whose job apparently was keeping her eye on her inebriated daughter. We were benign, just a couple of guys having a drink, not looking to chase someone old enough to be our daughter. It was then I started looking around to see who else was there. There were only hookers and prospective johns at the bar, with pimps keeping an eye on them from a distance. We cleared out of there. No wonder the mother was on watch. I felt sad for them, celebrating a birthday that way. I later heard that the pimps cause trouble at that bar as they get drunk, let alone what happens when they follow their girls and their marks back to the hotel rooms.

This place was starting to disgust me.

The next evening we took a cab to Downtown, which was the original strip in the 60's. THIS was the Las Vegas of the movies and the Rat Pack. Gaudy, yes, but on a manageable scale. People were looking like they were enjoying themselves, at last. There was live street entertainment, including an accomplished smooth jazz saxist. He also told me jazz was dead in this town. We ate a fantastic Italian meal in the Golden Nugget, at a much more reasonable price than on The Strip. We enjoyed the light show over Fremont. Maybe not all was bad.

The next day was our last at the trade show, very productive. We had been told to go to the Rio hotel for the seafood buffet, so we went there for dinner. Apparently none of the cabbies knew (or cared to say) that the seafood buffet was closed for renovations. No worry, the regular buffet was great. And finally, we hit a place that had some life to it. The Rio has a nominal Brazilian theme. What this meant in reality was there was tropical decor and the showrooms had Brazilian names like Copacabana and Ipanema. And the waitresses had to wear thongs under short chiffon skirts. Sometimes they got up on tables and danced something that had no relation to samba.

Penn and Teller had an ongoing show there. Finally, something I wanted to see. I loved their book How to Play with Your Food. I do their "stick a fork in your eye" trick at inopportune times. Our timing didn't work out and we thought we would come back the next day. We decided to take a cab over to the Wynne. In the taxi lineup, Three Ring struck up a conversation with a young British couple. We shared a cab and it turned out he was an accomplished jazz drummer, playing with a lot of name musicians in England. I mentioned that I was looking forward to getting together again with Evan Parker in early February. Regrettably we went our separate ways once the ride ended, but the encounter had continued to buoy my spirits.

The Wynne is truly impressive and the Beautiful People were there in full force. Finally, we hit a place that matched the hype. There was big money here, without a doubt. Ahnuld Schwartzenegger had breezed through with his entourage just a few hours earlier. I liked this place, even though I was way out of my depth.

In the end, Three Ring and I pulled an all-nighter, appropriate for one's last night in Vegas. We eventually got back to our hotel room, arranged a late checkout time and crashed for a couple of hours sleep. We planned to pack after the nap, then scoot over to the airport. It annoyed us when a fire drill came on a couple of minutes later. The damn thing was very loud and persistent, even when we buried our heads under our pillows.

I got up to look if anyone outside was actually heeding the alarm. A few people had started walking out. They were pointing and staring up to the roof. I put my hand on the top of the window in order to look up. The window was hot and I could see smoke.

"Hey, this thing's for real. We're on fire!"

We got dressed as quickly as possible. I grabbed my horn and nothing else. Three Ring also left everything save for his cel phone and passport, leaving his heart and back medications in the bathroom. Passport?? I checked my pockets on the way down the fire escape. Wallet, cel phone - yes. Passport - no. I was stuck in Vegas.

The stairwell smelled of burning plastic, not too oppressive, but strong enough to focus one's attention acutely. People were generally orderly. A couple of assholes were blocking the stairway as they awkwardly tried to manoever all of their luggage downstairs. Three Ring cursed them out for their selfisheness, then grabbed the woman's bags and hauled them down at least five floors. Remember, he had a freshly broken vertbra in his lower back. He left me in his dust. Once he got the luggage outside, he went back upstairs a bit to help out an older woman in distress, again cursing out the selfish assholes as they passed.

He would not leave her. She had just had her knees replaced and was in considerable pain. She was separated from her family and was without her cel phone. She started having a panic attack as we moved across the street to the initial evacuation point. He stuck with her until a paramedic came by.

Then we ran into some people that we had met only the night before. The mother was quite elderly, frail and in a wheelchair. They had been on the 30th floor and the fire was just outside their window. They cleared out the moment the alarm sounded and were incredibly fortunate to catch the very last elevator going down to the lobby. All of her crucial medications were left behind in their room.

This family was from the projects in Chicago, supposedly on the trip of a lifetime. In all likelihood, they lost everything in their room, either from fire, toxic smoke or water. We never found out before we left. Three Ring and I basically stuck with them for the balance of our time in Vegas, giving whatever support we could.

I watched the facade on the top floor burn away. It was easy to see that it was all styrofoam, probably with a vinyl outer coat. Great chunks of burning foam fell to the ground, dripping fire. Some of it fell on cornices on lower floors, starting new fires. Beneath the foam was blackened concrete, and the fire burned no deeper. So as the fire burned outward horizontally, it died down in the centre of the building. I snapped a few shots on my cel phone.

Traffic around the hotel immediately became gridlocked. I was angered that I never saw any fire trucks, assuming that they were also stuck in traffic. Then I saw firefighters appear on the roof - they had approached the building from the opposite side. I watched in awe as these guys hung over the edge of the roof, manoevering high-pressure spray onto the fire on the facing sice of the building. Others worked through the fire on the adjoining floors, putting out flames from the inside.

Those guys are bloody heroes.

The hotel guests and staff got notice to move away from the initial holding area, directing us first to the neighbouring New York New York, then immediately across Las Vegas Blvd. to the MGM Grand. Hotel staff were posted at close intervals to guide us every step of the way. We cursed out a stupid person who was trying to hand out show promotion tickets to passing evacuees.

Once in the MGM Grand, they ushered all 4,000 of us through the staff hallways to the MGM Garden Arena, where all the big boxing matches are held. Very clever, I thought, keeping us out of the main casino area - better to move a large number of people, meanwhile not upsetting business in the casino. By the time we arrived in the arena, they already had free bottled water and coffee stations set up. Staff had been pulled in from all nine of MGM's properties, of which the Monte Carlo was one. They took our names, cel phone numbers and room numbers and showed us to sections of the area based upon the floor we were staying.

We were still with the Chicagoans, moving to our section. Another staffer asked if there were any medical requirements for evacuees. In a nice move, they brushed off a self-important guy who pushed to the front of the line to ask about his car (we figured him to be a lawyer worried about his beloved Beemer). They ignored him and talked to Three Ring and Mama about the medications they had left behind. Both had critical need of their medicine. The staff immediately asked us to follow them out of the arena. The guy in charge was a pit boss I had noticed at the MGM Grand, a well-dressed, very handsome guy. He was on top of things without a doubt. By this time, Three Ring had started jotting down name of the staffers, but we missed this guy's name. He had someone lead us back into the MGM Grand, then down a secure hallway. The next thing we knew we were checked into rooms in MGM's super-elite Signature Suites, rated the best such suites in the country. We had been put in the lap of luxury.

By this time, we had encountered at least a hundred MGM staffers, every one of them unfailingly polite and professional. Many apologized for our inconvenience as we passed. The manager at the Signature Suites did so as well as we went up to our superb rooms. These people were absolutely genuine in their concern, and it was getting overwhelming for us. Three Ring resolved to write MGM thanking as many staffers by name as possible, and make it company policy to stay at MGM properties whenever possible.

I chilled out in the room for the rest of the day. Three Ring marvelled at his continued travel misadventures, fearing his upcoming trips to Calgary and China. I am going to arrange a witch doctor or an exorcism or something.

We phoned relatives to say we were OK. We contacted our travel agent and US Airways immediately rescheduled our flight without any financial penalty.

We watched news coverage on CNN and we were astounded to see a couple of guests show up on the news complaining how poorly the evacuation was handled. One of them had been standing under the falling debris, shooting video, probably aiming to sell it to the media. Idiot. We figured they were angling for litigation. It was not our experience, or that of anyone around us. The CEO of MGM Hotels was interviewed. He apologized for the terrible inconvenience, then guaranteed the salaries of the staff for the next 30 days. In light of the sub prime mortgage scandal, he promised that no house payments would go unpaid. This was not the typical corporate American response to such an incident. Where was the evasion and double-speak?

We met up with the two Chicagoans for dinner. They wanted to go to Emeril's restaurant in the MGM Grand, even though Mama had left her teeth back at the Monte Carlo. Everyone from the servers to top management came out to apologize for our inconvenience. They comped the meal for us. We were starting to feel like celebrities, but were also humbled. It started sinking in that this fire could have been a major disaster - people could have died, particularly the ones we were dining with, with flames outside their window. But everyone was evacuated safely, with only a few minor injuries reported. Throughout the whole experience, Mama never once complained. She gave away the shawl that covered her wheelchair to a young family whose baby was getting cold in the outdoor holding area.

We got a few long looks walking back to our suites. Poor black people were not usually seen in such an exclusive hotel. I'm sure some of the guests were oblivious to the day's goings on. But the Chicagoans paid no mind. They had been treated with respect by everyone involved, and were thankful that we were there to keep them company in the aftermath.

Arriving back in the lobby, we learned that people staying in the lower floors of the Monte Carlo were about to be allowed to go back into their rooms to gather their belongings. The Chicagoans were not allowed, being roomed so close to the fire. They were warned there would be water, toxic smoke, maybe fire damage to everything in the room. Mama looked forward to getting a new set of teeth.

We were immediately loaded onto a waiting shuttle bus. The Chicagoans were dropped off at MGM's hospital facility so that Mama's medications could be replaced. We continued back to the Monte Carlo. Typically, Three Ring shouted to everyone on the bus. "Hey, did anyone here see those two fucking assholes on the news complaining about the evacuation? Did any of you have that happen to you?" No matter how many times he asked that through the night, the answer was always no.

We were held up slightly at the entrance to the Monte Carlo parking area. Security personnel were the last to learn that the guests were being allowed back in. Three Ring was about to go out and knock some heads when they got the word. We were among the first to reenter the hotel. The point person greeting the buses was clearly shaken and overwhelmed. Three Ring hugged her and told her what a fantastic job she was doing.

Hundreds of MGM employees were in the lobby, every one of them greeting us, most apologizing. We could only continually thank them for their superb efforts, as we had been doing all day. Security and damage claim forms were quickly processed at the check-in desks, and they ran down the recovery procedures for our possessions. We showed ID and room cards, then were escorted in fours up to our floor. There two staffers accompanied us to our room, one bellman and another woman who maintained the checklist for the procedure. It was her second week on the job for MGM.

Everything in our room was fine. We packed up and got out quickly, deeply impressed by the courtesy and professionalism of the staff. Three Ring took more names as we headed back to the Signature Suites.

One of the few hassles was when I called to reschedule our airport shuttle. I told the lady that obviously since we had been staying at the Monte Carlo, our afternoon shuttle had been cancelled. She started in on me for not calling them to cancel (while we were watching our hotel burn). She regained her perspective when Three Ring yelled from across the room "YOU FUCKING IDIOT, DIDN'T YOU WATCH THE FUCKING TV TODAY?" He has such a delicate way of putting things.

The next morning, we ate breakfast with the Chicagoans. They received word that they would not be allowed back to their room, or what was left of it, for at least another day. I suggested that they go to the front desk and get MGM to get them some new clothes, something I am sure they would oblige. We bade our farewells and left.

At the airport, US Airways had handled our flight change so quickly that I hadn't had time to get the old e-ticket out of my suitcase pocket. They comped our drinks on the flight. Three Ring took more names down.

And then we were home.

Two very conflicting impressions of my trip remain. The first was my initial revulsion to the seedy underbelly of Las Vegas. My photo of the hotel fire is quite symbolic. The facade was not real, it was a fake mix of styrofoam and a glitzy covering, a poor facsimile of reality. It did not take much to peel that back - the fire spread so quickly and totally obliterated the facade, leaving a blackened, smoky skeleton underneath, foul and dirty. Vegas is still like that - don't buy into the ad campaigns.

Conversely, the hundreds of people who assisted us showed us the very best that Las Vegas could offer, something that cannot be manufactured or merchandised. That is the lasting impression that I will keep in my heart.

4 comments:

John Doheny said...

"Conversely, the hundreds of people who assisted us showed us the very best that Las Vegas could offer, something that cannot be manufactured or merchandised. That is the lasting impression that I will keep in my heart."

Just out of curiosity, were these staff people Latino?

I don't know how much play this is getting up in Canada, but the republican party is currently in the process of tearing itself apart over immigration policy. While Latino voters have lately been skewing conservative, that segment of the party that favors building a big wall at the Mexican border (seriously) and has a hard time distinguishing legal immigrants from illegal ones is busy alienating Latino voters in case lots.

Rush Limbaugh, Bill O'Reilly and other gasbags are currently obsessing about 'immigrant' voters (who make up a large part of the Vegas service industry) 'stealing' the primaries in Vegas.

Cause, you know...they're not 'real' Americans.

Steve Bagnell said...

You know it. Vegas would come to a complete halt without all of the Latinos who work there. The attractive ones with good language skills get the front-line jobs, and countless others work in housekeeping, maintenance, etc.

The trade show I was at was strictly for concrete construction. There were dozens of companies showing off wall-building capabilities. Many of them are gearing up for the border fence.

Unknown said...

Not surprised, at all.. over the high hotel service level in LV.
LV has the service and they are emazingly well organized to handle crowds and unexpected events.
Part of showbiz training I guess eh ? Or is it the best of mob organization skills.



Something for us all to learn from.
Petter

Steve Bagnell said...

Years ago the MGM Grand had a huge fire where 85 people or so died. Plus post-911 paranoia must be a factor. Evacuation procedures were well-planned and executed.

Whatever the motivation, they did a hell of a job. And many of them really did care.