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.
Intriguing People 2016
Our sixth annual toast to the tastemakers, innovators and unsung heroes working to make Las Vegas great