Pass Go. We pooled our resources and played a one dollar round on the penny slots at MGM Grand. The game ended before we learned what to do.
Don't look down. The sidewalks beneath your feet are covered in business cards for call girls.
Look Professional. Times are tough when your entire city's backbone is built on gambling and the consequent spending of surplus cash, especially when you are a cook at the diner.
Get Married. Vegas gives out steak diners and casino cash for those committed ones. Not married? Just head down the street to the chapel and then cash in. You just might break even.
When all else fails, listen to Billy Joel. There is a bar in New York, the one on the corner of Tropicana and Las Vegas Blvd., that looks like a scene from somewhere in Little Italy. Weird right. Anyway, it appears to be this great little pizza joint with brick ovens and a cozy atmosphere and Billy Joel plays there. Well not really Billy Joel, actually he looked nothing like Billy Joel but he could sing though, pretty well if you ask me. Such a good singer in fact that he had a dozen middle aged blonde women wearing tight blue jeans and tight black sweaters swooning over his sing a long classic version of Piano Man. Working the crowd with his dancing fingers and occasionally flexed forearms he scanned the bar to reel in further his captive audience for the final chorus. Shit..., I thought we he caught me smiling and singing along, ... I'm busted, no longer just a passive observer. If I wasn't already broke and borrowing money from my girlfriend I would have said fuck it and gone in and bought shots for my friends and I, and one for the Piano Man too, the good salesmen that he was. But I was broke, thankfully, and our hotel, a quite and dark - slot machine free resting place, was just a couple of blocks away.
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