On the advice of a pal, I once stood 45 minutes in a sidewalk line in San Francisco’s rough and tumble Tenderloin, hoping for a breakfast table at the impossibly small (and delicious) Dottie’s True Blue Café. The wait might have been double if it weren’t for the effective deterrent provided by the parade of characters from the seedy apartments next door.
White Cross Drugs, and its attendant 24-hour grill, Tiffany’s, is no Dottie’s. And, truth be told, Tiffany’s has slipped a little in recent years. But it’s still a quintessential drugstore greasy spoon—and it makes White Cross one of the Las Vegas’ last places where you can get both pancakes and prescriptions. Like the stubbornly surviving lunch counters at Decatur Drugs and Huntridge Drugs, Tiffany’s still matters. It’s not only a link to our past, but a vibrant part of the urban present.
So, while just about every so-called coffeehouse in town would benefit from hiring a qualified barista, Tiffany’s isn’t the place for that. What Tiffany’s really needs is to get back to firing those flapjacks and burgers with the same kind of love that went into them a few short years ago. Maybe then a 45-minute line will form, and we can all stand around bitching about how great it was before everyone discovered it. Again.
Why don’t they put a “Welcome to Las Vegas” sign along Interstate 15—the way nearly all drivers enter our city?
Since the late 1960s, Interstate 15 has steered incoming drivers around Betty Willis’ iconic Las Vegas Boulevard sign—and Clark County added insult in 2008 when it opened that “park-and-photograph” lot: Drivers have to be headed out of town to access it.
But don’t hold your breath for an I-15 sign. The feds would frown upon an official highway sign welcoming people to a city that is, thanks to our municipal hodgepodge, miles away. How about a building wrap on the Mandalay Bay to trumpet motorists’ arrival in Sin City? Willis might even consider designing it.