![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
canyonwalkerPicture it: Las Vegas. The Bellagio. You're thinking of those fountains, right? The beauty. The luxury.
Now imagine that you're at the Bellagio, and you turn around 180° from that and walk away.
There's a loooong corridor leading away from it. And your room is almost at the end.
On all my trips to Vegas in recent years I've always been reminded quickly of why I hate Vegas. This one has been no exception. Crowds. Traffic. Driving 20 minutes to go 2 miles. Waiting in line another 20 minutes to check in. Having to trek through a smoky casino both ways to get to... anything. And sadly, the Bellagio's casino is smokier than others I've stayed at in the past few years. Even though nearly nobody is actually smoking, the whole place reeks of it. Years of second hand smoke piled up are already making my throat scratchy, and I'm going hoarse. After just minutes in the poisoned air.
Oh, but there's my room...
It's a fairly well sized room, if utterly dull. And the view outside is nothing special. Remember what I said above about the fountains? Yeah, here's the view from my "desk":
Hey, look, a 10-lane boulevard, a freeway, some high-voltage power lines, and... miles of concrete desert. Fabulous Las Vegas!
Well, at least that little round table I pulled over to the window to serve as my desk today is better than sitting at an ironing board.
Now imagine that you're at the Bellagio, and you turn around 180° from that and walk away.
There's a loooong corridor leading away from it. And your room is almost at the end.
On all my trips to Vegas in recent years I've always been reminded quickly of why I hate Vegas. This one has been no exception. Crowds. Traffic. Driving 20 minutes to go 2 miles. Waiting in line another 20 minutes to check in. Having to trek through a smoky casino both ways to get to... anything. And sadly, the Bellagio's casino is smokier than others I've stayed at in the past few years. Even though nearly nobody is actually smoking, the whole place reeks of it. Years of second hand smoke piled up are already making my throat scratchy, and I'm going hoarse. After just minutes in the poisoned air.
Oh, but there's my room...
It's a fairly well sized room, if utterly dull. And the view outside is nothing special. Remember what I said above about the fountains? Yeah, here's the view from my "desk":
Hey, look, a 10-lane boulevard, a freeway, some high-voltage power lines, and... miles of concrete desert. Fabulous Las Vegas!
Well, at least that little round table I pulled over to the window to serve as my desk today is better than sitting at an ironing board.
no subject
Date: 2024-02-14 12:11 pm (UTC)...but yeesh, what a Corporate Nightmare. It's not suburban, but it _feels_ suburban somehow, the parts like Johnathan Coulton's song Shop Vac, where we're just struggling through pretending our lives are okay while making them very small and without adventure because what would the neighbors think. Suburban idea of vacation.
I don't blame you for hating it, the photos you've posted make my skin crawl a bit.
~Sor