OK here we go, someone is going to take this personally, but it’s not aimed at any particular individual self absorbed, vacuous individual other than the one checking in last night…
This started a couple of weeks ago when one of the engineers that worked with me dropped by my desk and asked for some advise on surprising her husband with a trip to Vegas. They have a 4 year old son and my first question was “Who is looking after the kid?”
This post is inspired by the rest of that conversation, the bitter experience of the last 20 hours and a few unbelievably self obsessed people last night.
To whom it may concern…
There was an evening, it may have been a few days ago, it could conceivably have been months before your arse hit the strip complete with that hot Vegas accessory, the stroller. If this may be you, step away from your yard of margarita, put down that attractive “Welcome to Las Vegas” fridge magnet and take stock of what you are doing.
Who the hell brings kids to Las Vegas? It’s called “Sin City”, the tag line is “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas”, what made you think this was a great place for a family vacation? Oh yeah, that’s right you are a selfish arse who wants to play poker while letting the 9 year old run around the Adventuredome for 8 hours by herself.
I can see the conversation
Dad – what about a vacation this year? Any thoughts?
Mum – Well there is always DisneyLand, they are at the right age to enjoy that…
Dad – Or we could go to Vegas, blow their college fund playing blackjack and get that threesome with a hooker we’ve been talking about for a while…
Mum – That sounds like an awesome idea, can I choose the hooker? You know how I like false tits… But what about the kids?
Dad – It will be fine, we’ll get adjoining rooms…
Perhaps I should rephrase it as “What happens in Vegas when almost criminally negligent parents are wandering along the strip at midnight while pushing their offspring, stays in Vegas until they are all in the family therapists office in 10 years time”
I’ve said before there should be parent licenses. I’ve seen some horrible parenting in my lifetime, you need a license to have dog in Snohomish, but across this country any selfish woman and random alcoholic baby-daddy can have a kid and then a few years later take them to Vegas. Parenting skills and having to be thoughtful of this little life you created are to some people very, very optional.
So Mr and Mrs Inconsiderate, I hope you’ve got good medical insurance, ’cause therapy ain’t cheap.
I’ve got a lot of problems with Vegas ($20 for a gin and tonic for a start), but the biggest one of the last 20 hours is kids. I can spot poor parenting at 200 yards and I am sick and tired of having to deal with the consequences of terrible parenting. I’m sick of fact that I have to censor myself when we are sitting in a restaurant after midnight because the parents at the next table are clucking in disapproval at a wonderful, profanity laden story about jumping a racecar 164 feet (“and then Jeff said “That is so fucking cool…”).
In England there is the “watershed”, it means nothing racy on TV before 9pm, there is nothing similar in Las Vegas and there should be. The clock strikes 9 and the strip becomes a kid free zone.
I hate how slow the check in line moved last night because the self absorbed parents are too busy dealing with whining, crying Johnny who thinks now is the right time to empty the contents of his sisters diaper bag on the floor of the check in area in the Wynn. WTF, I really mean WTF. A lot of credit to the Wynn here, they handled the situation perfectly and it has a no stroller policy. And I like that. This is a place where people come to gamble, drink, have fun and discreetly stare at silicon chested stripper wannabes by the pool.
If you really must be so selfish as to bring your kids to Vegas, at least have the decency to stay at Circus Circus. Next time I inadvertently bump into your precious while backing away from the $5 craps table in Bills after a series of good rolls, you can apologise to me, because you are a thoughtless, self absorbed arse. When I’m on my 4th gin & tonic, and still feel like the responsible one in an argument, it’s not a good reflection on you.
So thank you for your time, it’s been at least a decade since Vegas even pretended that it’s a family vacation spot. And there is a good reason for that, because it’s not.
Thank you, and have a good night, because I have a dinner reservation with my friends and a fight to attend.
And the Wynn really did a great job in dealing with the issue, I am very, very happy with the customer service. My problem is not with them, but the inconsiderate arse who checks into the hotel at midnight with two kids who are “expressing themselves”.