"Don't carry your wallet in your back pocket", is a useful piece of advice when walking around the streets of Las Vegas. I have known that one for a long time, although I am a bit black and blue having my wallet bouncing around in my underwear. Besides, I went to use the bathroom in the Venetian casino last night and the darn thing flipped into the urinal. Thank goodness I wasn't at a Sahara urinal. There must be a better place to store my money and credit cards.
My son and I have been in Vegas for five days and we have been given tons of advice on how to gamble here, where to find an apartment, what parts of the city not to live in, where to eat, and which shows to see. It seems that everyone is an expert and we are novices here, so we are all ears. Yesterday, a real estate broker told my son that whatever you do, don't date a Vegas stripper. This advice was amended last night when a friend of my son's added cocktail waitress to the forbidden list. (I actually dated a majorette from the marching band back in the day, but that is just between us.) The fact that we even have to have this conversation will put my wife on edge as we observe our "baby" sidle into Vegas life. I guess that is why she sent me to help with this transition and she stayed at home. So, I interviewed six strippers and three cocktail waitresses last night and I agreed with his real estate broker that Ryan should not date women who work in those categories. I want to be thorough.
On the other hand, there may be some hidden (I use this term very loosely) advantages to taking up with women of this sort. I would guess that they are somewhat used to being chilly, given their normal working attire. Therefore, you could probably turn down the heat in the winter and save on the fuel bill. I doubt they are ever pick-pocketed on the street, cause they have so many interesting places to hide paper money. No thief would ever think to look there. Financially speaking, it might not be so bad. A good stripper or cocktail waitress at one of the high-end places in Vegas makes more money per year than a university professor. Maybe my son wouldn't have to work at all.
Thinking creatively, maybe I should stay out here and become a male stripper so I could return home with some loot. Is there a market for a 63-year old, white-haired male stripper wearing only binoculars? There are certainly plenty of elderly women wearing blue jogging suits who might want a break from those slot machines of an evening. I'll check the classifieds today.
P.S. Don't worry Robin. Either I will be home soon, broke as usual, or I will arrive home a few weeks late, with money hiding in places where thieves never go.
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