Weekend before last, I had the opportunity to visit the capital of sin — Las Vegas. Where there are no open-container laws and everything is about drinking, gambling and sex. By all means I expected to hate Vegas for the very thing that it stood for. Sex, money and hustling.

So when I decide to make the trip to Vegas over a weekend thanks to an extended weekend stay over in LA for work my expectations were pretty low. I expected to see a tacky place with neon signs all over just something very cheesy and lacking class.

My impression now couldn’t be further from it. Vegas is in a class apart. A city unto itself in the middle of nowhere (and I should know since it took 7.5 hours to get there even though it is generally a 4 hour drive from LA thanks to very bad traffic on 10E and 15N), I can only think of comparing Vegas to Disneyworld for adults. (I’ve never been to Disneyworld yet, but conceptually the comparison seems to fit.) I could literally have spent a day in each of the hotels just checking out the hotels and the attractions there in. Each hotel is a world in itself. The Luxor (where we stayed the first night) which was done in an Egyptian theme, The Venetian – Venice, Manadalay Bay, Bellagio, MGM Grand, Monte Carlo, Bally’s all one fascinating hotel after the other.

We started the evening out right with a ‘Margarita by the Yard’ and the show Midnight Fantasy (a topless revue as it was described on the hotel brochure!). Of course after than both my friend I concurred that relatively speaking all the other women in Vegas were no comparison to the cast of the Midnight Fantasy! The comedy act was pretty good too btw.

Then a visit to the nightclub Ra – also at the Luxor – but unfortunately, this place just didn’t do it for me. Probably because the wonderful California laws of non-smoking don’t extend to Nevada and also because the crowd just wasn’t “right”.

Though I loved the way the hotels were done up – each creating its own version of simulated reality which in fact was in some cases amazing and in some cases overkill, the casinos had pretty much the reverse impact for me. They were all the same. Tacky, cheesy, and despicable. Obviously they make tons of money for the hotels since the it took us under 30 seconds to loose 20 bucks a piece in blackjack. I guess there is something about being pragmatic and not having any desire to gamble since you know that the only way to win in a casino is to own one (stole that from the website of a friend of mine – www.maximustiger.com – I still have no idea what he is trying to do, but I agree with his tag line)

The casinos in every hotel were the same. So at least in my opinion if you’re going to Las Vegas to gamble, then you’re really missing out. Because what I would go to Vegas for and I’m ready to do it again – would be for the hotels, the shows, the 24-hour a day party atmosphere and the masses and masses of people all out to have fun and a good time.

Things that deserve special mention – the Venetian – Fantastic reconstruction of the Grand Canal of Venice and re-creating the ambience of being outside while you are inside the hotel. Had me fooled for the first few minute for sure! St. Mark’s Square at the Venetian was amazing.

And not to forget the highlight of my Vegas trip! Blue Man Group. They ROCK. Go see it. Enough said!

Writing this blog as I sit at Starbucks by the window – unfortunately all the comfy chairs that I like are occupied and so this was the only alternative. Right on the other side of the glass pane, every so often there are people standing in order to smoke. It’s kind of ironic, since one of the things I had put on my list of things to bitch and moan about recently was smoking and smokers!

My grandmother used to smoke about two packs a day. My dad probably still smokes about two packs a day. So you would think that I would be used to smoking and that it wouldn’t be that much of a bother. Having now spent close to the decade in the US where luckily there is some respect for non-smokers (unlike India, Europe and a lot of the rest of the world), my tolerance for smoke and smokers seems to be bottoming out.

This past weekend I was out with some friends for dinner and drinks to a bar where I literally had to leave my mouth open and breathe through my mouth because the smoke was making it impossible for me to breathe normally. But that’s more me than the smoke or the smokers since I’ve realized that I actually cannot tolerate smoke more than a certain degree very well. My nose just doesn’t think it’s supposed to function well in a smoky environment and contrary to the orders sent down to it from the brain, it just goes on strike.

But that said, I so have a basic problem with smokers. Why is it that smokers feel that it is their right to keep throwing their butts all over the damn place!? Regardless of how educated or well to do a person might be. When it comes to smoking, they seem to have no qualms about throwing their cigarette butts right where they are standing. Walk outside any building and you will see a collection or smelly cigarette butts all over the damn place.

Secondly, why is it that smokers thing that they are just so freaking cool… maybe they think that just because they smoke the exhaust of their lungs is sacred and thus it is their duty to make sure that they direct the “holy-smoke” directly towards someone who isn’t as lucky to be able to produce their own holy smoke.

Oh… and how can I not talk about the smell. The noxious smell of smoke in someone’s breath or in your own clothes after you’ve been to a smoky place. Ugh… disgusting. What’s especially bad is when the next morning, as you wash your hair you can smell the remnants of the previous nights smoky excursion.

You could take the most beautiful woman and all she has to do is put a cigarette in her mouth and start to light up and it’s an instant turnoff. (Ironically, I seem to see more women smoking than men these days)

My grandmom stopped smoking finally after a series of illnesses which required that she stop smoking. But I definitely didn’t make it easy on her when she was smoking. Her birthday presents were usually little table-top placards with anti-smoking slogans on them. They said:

Kissing a smoker, is like licking an ashtray.

Kiss a non-smoker and feel the difference.

Cancer cures smoking.

Ahh… I guess I’m done with my rant about smoking… I’ve had enough discussions with my dad over it, since I won’t go into his room any more when I’m home, since it put plainly, stinks. I guess my only refuge will be when I eventually move to California where I can go to a bar and get a drink, without coming out smelling like someone sprayed hydrogen sulphide all over me and my clothes!