Fall Break is designed to be a time to step away from school, set down your books and relax a bit before the pre-Thanksgiving/finals grind.  Every year my fraternity’s senior class travels to Las Vegas for a three-night, debauchery-filled Fall Break. In a perfect world, this unhealthy long weekend is packed with gambling, late-nights and random encounters with women of the seedier sort. Many stories should and will remain in Vegas; however, I’d like to tell you a few, relatively tame tales.
My crew of 18 stayed at New York, New York, which is located in the relative center of Las Vegas’ strip, next to Excalibur, Tropicana and MGM Grand. My friends and I routinely traveled to these casinos for their lower limit stakes (I still am a college student, after all). While the stakes may be low, it is certainly relative, and Las Vegas can be very unforgiving to the untrained or unlucky gambler.
You’re probably going to lose. Hopefully, you don’t lose a lot. I lost somewhere in the neighborhood of $50 to $100, and I came off lucky. A friend of mine, who for his own sake will remain nameless, could have lost in the neighborhood of $800 during one night’s drunken stupor. He could attest to the danger’s of the card game “war,” which fleeced him of $100 in a mere 15 minutes.
However, gambling in Vegas certainly has its benefits. One of these gains would certainly be the free booze delivered to you by the always-friendly cocktail waitress (who is consistently satisfied by the mere $1 tip). This perk certainly eases the pain of a blackjack dealer routinely ripping twenty-one, yet it also serves to lubricate the unsuspecting patron’s willingness to dig deeper into his or her wallet.
Vegas’ nightclub scene is extremely unique and bearable to the typical Vandy student for maybe two nights at most. First and foremost, it’s expensive. You probably won’t be able to spend less than a crisp Benjamin per night, and for a guy my age that likely brings little positive result. For example, as an educated, exceedingly good-looking young adult male I would consider myself a hot commodity in most social situations. However, the typical Vegas girl’s target would be a balding, twice-divorced yet exceedingly rich middle-aged male (I can’t compete with that).
Gold-digging women are certainly a dime a dozen in Vegas, in both the direct and indirect sense. Strippers and prostitutes are certainly a mainstay of Vegas culture. In hindsight, I unfortunately chose to lose $70 in poker Sunday night instead of traveling with my friends to the infamous Spearmint Rhino strip club. However, I have since lived vicariously through them and their verbal depictions. Fortunately, I was not drawn to the beautiful, silicon-filled siren’s call of those working-ladies who frequent the casino late at night.
All in all, Las Vegas was an amazing experience, greatly enhanced by the size of the group with whom I traveled. Nevertheless, my bank account and my moral code would appreciate a two- or three-year break from the city of sin. However, for those of you contemplating a trip the desert’s oasis, do it. It’s Vegas baby, filled with plenty of beautiful babies, and you’re money.
