Above all other seamy strip joints, the Spearmint Rhino, with its aura of old-school Vegas history, its bevy of dancers, heavy-handed bartenders and regular clientele of both locals and partying tourists, tends to have a very specific effect on people, no matter what their original intention. Anytime a story fatefully begins with, “Last night I was at the Rhino,” you can be reasonably sure the person’s tale will ultimately end with them coming home around sunrise and sleeping off an impressive hangover until late afternoon. The best-laid plans for “just one drink” are absolutely futile when matched with the sexually charged, alcohol-fueled party animal that is the Rhino.
Best of the City 2017
Our eighth annual celebration of all things Las Vegas, from the best casino comebacks to irresistible pot products