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I’m lost, and frightened, and—hey, Fendi!

Friday is our last day at New York, New York. We start with a bagel and espresso at the Il Fornaio bakery downstairs. Then we redeem two free drink coupons that came with the room (so what if it’s 10:30), then we finish packing up, check out, and snag a cab over to our home for part two of the trip: Caesars Palace. Caesars is totally overboard in the way it carries out its theme; it’s not quite tacky, just excessive to the point of hilarity. Marble statues are everywhere, the check-in counter is backed with mosaics of ancient battles and old gods, and the swimming pool replicates a roman bath. It’s also enormous—like a small city.

It’s too early to check in, so we chuck our bags at a bell hop, gamble, and have a little walkabout. Around noon, we eat at the Cheesecake Factory in the nearby Forum Shops, and the portions are fucking absurd. The lunch-sized plates are more than we could eat normally, so they must use a wheelbarrow for the dinner portions. Post-meal, we can finally check in. The room is beautiful, particularly the bathroom with its big-ass marble counters and whirlpool tub. We have a quick snooze and then head down to the lobby, intending to cut through the Forum Shops and head north to TI. Easier said than done. Remember in Ocean’s Eleven when Clooney describes casinos as mazes designed to keep people in? Dude was talking about Caesars Palace. For our first exit attempt, we head in what seems like a Northerly direction. Twenty minutes later we find an exit which takes us to the rear of the building which is clogged with food-smelly dumpsters. We wander around back for a while, find that there’s no easy way to get to the front, hit an entirely different entrance and end up—no shit—exactly where we started. Our second exit attempt, equally as long, is at least a success, but the path to freedom ends in this excruciatingly slow spiral escalator that covers two floors of shops, which I like to think of as The Spiral of Degradation. It’s there just in case you forgot to stock up on Jimmy Choos and Burberry on your way out.

After a quick stop by Mirage, with its vight tiiigers and soothing smells of Vanilla and chlorine, we press on to TI. There’s some gambling, but TI has never been good to us in that way, so we eat at Isla again (one of only two repeat restaurants from the previous trip) and are on our way. Our second last casino of the night is Wynn, a place that gets decadence thing just right. You want high-end shops? It’s doesn’t get more high-end then Wynn. And yet, it’s a casino for the people. There are penny slots and free drinks galore. And it isn’t a maze. Steve Wynn knows that if you’re gonna spend big, you’re gonna spend big—you’re not gonna buy a Maserati just because you’re fucking lost. Sarah plays for two hours on five bucks and I just suck. Lastly, we stop in at the Venetian, where the roles are reversed and I’m the big winner (or break-evener). We head back home and try our damnedest to gamble at Caesars, but it’s getting into the weekend and so busy as hell. Instead, we go back to the room, have a few nightcaps, and pass out.

Comments

Anonymous said…
When we were in DC, we went to the Cheesecake Factory for our farewell lunch.

I ordered an appetizer that was - no shit - 4 mini hamburgers.

WTF?

It's like eating in Texas, if Texas was the same but only moreso.


Wow.

I'm NEVER going to eat at a Cheesecake Factory in Texas.

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