Lost Wages (NOT!)

I don't understand why people cleverly and ironically call Las Vegas "Lost Wages." If anything, it's nickname should be "City of Secondary Income." I recently went there for another photo shoot for a few days, and came back with more money than I left with. In fact, my first night out there, I played craps for about 20 minutes and playing loosely and falling asleep between rolls, I made 20 bucks. Using algebra, we can discover that $20 in 20 minutes = $60 in 60 minutes. Taking this one step farther, we realize that that's a wage of $60 dollars an hour, quite higher than my actual salary. Frivolous gambling, or working hard for the money?

Things that I want to put into list form:

• It seems my company flew me out there to sit in my room 8 hours a day, backing up hard drives and processing RAW images. Taking photos of myself in a bubble bath probably wasn't one of their ideas.


• Neither was going on Rolling Stones magazine's "best near death experience in Las Vegas": extreme dune buggying in the desert. That's sort of what happens when the company uses both $3500 Macbook Pros as props and I get tired of observing shoots where I feel useless.


• I didn't get to eat at In n' Out Burger, one of the great fast food franchises of our era. Apparently, burgers are not a 24 hour item like casinos. If only they would make slot machines that spit out Double Doubles Animal Style, or Flying Dutchman. With shakes and fries, of course.


• Speaking of slot machines, they assault the senses immediately after entering the Las Vegas airport terminal.


• In fact, most of Las Vegas assaults the senses. It is excessive excess, and one of the strangest places I've been. I'd like to go back, since my time on the strip consisted of sneaking into the MGM Grand so we could shoot in one of their $1600 a night suites without their permission. A building is considered old when it was built in 1990. Hell, if they want to raze a 1990 building and build a casino/hotel, come to my hood and knock down my condo.


• My bosses probably didn't envision me moving the food tables out of the way at the wrap party so I could take crew members money in silo. 4, 5, 6 baby!!


• I found out playing craps by yourself in a mostly empty resort casino on a Wednesday night may be worse than drinking alone. I work hard for my money, though.


• I am not used to luxury. We stayed in an immense resort in a suburb called Sumerlin, where I had a king bed to myself, a rainfall shower with a regular showerhead too and a jacuzzi. Free food, 18 pillows on my bed (actually, 17 of them were useless and weirdly shaped) and maid service? I'm just a simple dude from Queens, but all that after my St. Maarten experience makes it hard to come home to my not finished condo.

You can view photos of the desert adventure, as well as casino adventure and bubble bath adventure here. After teaching 5 people how to play craps, I'm up $30 on Vegas and anxiously awaiting a rematch. And no, I don't have a gambling addiction. I have the Protestant work ethic and urge to make money.