Despite the myriad acres of cheap desert in which Vegas is a small dot, Casino developers without exception covet the central real estate in this arbitrarily chosen location. So it was with the latest and most innovative super-casino built under the exigencies of space on this neon microcosm that had been built not only high in the air but deep underground. Its dreamlike underground rooms were mistakable for an outdoor location at night, but its fabulous prosthesis was belied by the overhead rigging high above in the shadows of its metallic canopy.
I had won tickets to this bizarre city within a city, and having emptied my pockets of my first modest allotment of tokens, I headed for the elevator to change more of my Earth dollars. As I neared the metallic doors of the elevator, they opened welcomingly and a personable gentleman was stood inside. I realised he was the lift operator and asked to be taken to the ground floor.
The doors closed and I attempted to make conversation with this man, but he seemed to answer in the same rather artificial platitudes, and never turned round to talk to me. Before long the lift halted and opened, and in came an old lady wearing a tracksuit and adorning a crass gold necklace. “Good day”, I pronounced in my polite English manner, and the old lady replied “Hello young man”.
This charismatic old woman had a deep Texan accent and however crassly dressed, was apparently the wife of an oil tycoon or some kind of big-time CEO. She recognised me as one of the country guitarists that her husband was a fan of, and taken aback a little as I was rarely recognised by fans - only having released a couple of small time records in my spare time – I thanked her for this compliment.
She said to me: “You must come to our penthouse apartment and meet my husband”.
Feeling rather buoyant at this rare feeling of celebrity, I thanked the lady for her invitation and said that it was something of a novelty for me to be recognised by fans. I then took the opportunity – being on my own in Vegas and not knowing anyone – to ask all the questions that had been bugging me about this bizarre casino. How did they keep the grass alive in the underground ‘outdoor’ rooms? Why did the machines only accept tokens and not cash? How deep did the casino actually go?
The old lady cogently explained all of these things to me as we took the long journey up to the top of the hotel, with people coming in and out of the elevator whilst we stayed there talking.
Throughout the quite long journey – taking some time due to stopping for people on virtually every one of the multitudinous floors – I kept one eye on the lift operator. My first impressions were that he was a well-to-do gentleman, and he struck me as more likely to be an important businessman than a lift operator, so I felt puzzled ab initio. My curiosity only grew as I noticed the strange way that he stood in the same position at all times and didn’t seem to move his head to talk to people, focussing solely on his very simple control panel.
After around fifteen minutes – the lift genuinely took this long – we were nearing the apex of the building and I searched my pockets for a five dollar bill to tip the lift operator. The lift stopped and the operator pronounced “Thankyou sir and madam; have a nice day”, in his usual manner without moving his head. I thanked him and held out the five dollar bill to him, but I almost jumped out of my skin as my hand passed right through him. I jumped back landing on my bum at the back of the elevator, and took a second to recover my senses, but as I looked up, the old lady was grinning and said to me “He’s just a hologram stupid”. Getting myself up and shakily following the old lady out of the elevator, I asked her if there was anything else unexpected about this casino, and she told me with endearing mockery that there probably would be for someone who isn’t with the times. This certainly changed my perception of old ladies and technology, and now I felt like I had some catching up to do.