Very few Las Vegas commercial enterprises move at the speed of business.
Life in this part of the Mojave Desert is utterly geared towards leisure. The kind that seemingly becomes easy indolence. Continue reading Default Modes
Tag Archives: labor
Better Garbage
Once the initial Covid shutdowns yielded to limited occupancies, the swank Strip hotel/casinos decided any churn better than none.
Hey. A buck’s a buck. Earnings shortfall is better than nothing earned at all. Continue reading Better Garbage
Imbroglios
The best advice I ever heard about work? “Never get your meat where you make your bread.” Continue reading Imbroglios
Disconnect
People don’t visit destinations where there are high probabilities of getting sick as a result.
Surprised having read that? If you lived in Las Vegas such an observation will be heard as contrary. Or overblown. Continue reading Disconnect
Word of Mouth
Oh! Were that it the Mob still had a Las Vegas presence! Recent events here in what’s become the Big Mayberry have old-timers hankering for the dese and dose guys. “The boys.” Continue reading Word of Mouth
Land of the Least Free
At what point beyond the Northeast Region do Americans start ceding our postures? Not physical postures, but those defining who we claim being and how our projections are received. Continue reading Land of the Least Free
Laboring
Laboring Americans must relearn how to roll cars. Continue reading Laboring
Modern Horrors
Could the sharing economy produce a new line of horror stories? After all, its basis tosses to the wind every caution under which older sensible Americans were raised.
Don’t get into strangers’ cars. Don’t let just anybody into your home.
So what are the two attractions best fueling the quasi-barter economy? Gig drivers and homeowners turning into hostel keepers. Continue reading Modern Horrors
Old Paint Was a Lemon
Old Paint was wheezing harder than usual. After all the part swapping, repairs, and just general babying of that car, what finally forced my hand was a check engine light. Sure. It could’ve been a fouled sensor. Or maybe it might’ve been the first sign of the head gasket preparing to crack.
In any case, I read the yellow dashboard light as a clear warning from the gearhead gods. It became the straw which broke my camel’s back. Continue reading Old Paint Was a Lemon
First Dibs
Video poker machines and the city’s transient nature make establishing a hangout in Las Vegas difficult. The screens divert eyes and muddle hearing. A continually changing cast of barflies constantly juggles what elsewhere might be considered a roster of locals. And Las Vegas jobs with their Las Vegas schedules also add obstacles to continuity. Continue reading First Dibs