How to Avoid Porn Peddlers

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What’s the best way for my family to avoid getting harassed by the porn peddlers on the Strip?

Like every good Supreme Court justice, I know porn when I see it, and I’m pretty sure those direct-to-your-room—ahem —“entertainer” calling cards do not qualify. Showcasing recycled starlets with starred-out naughty bits and aging hairstyles, these glossy cards, when slapped into your sweaty palms, might have you mistaking today’s Strip for a 1980s Times Square time warp. If only it wasn’t for the creepy SpongeBob in his dirty squarepants angling for a photo (and requisite tip) startling you back to 21st-century Vegas. Yes, the Strip (and, to a different degree, the Fremont Street Experience) has changed, going from streetwalkers to card-slappers, from degenerate gamblers to questionable cosplayers. Go, First Amendment!

Las Vegas may only have one remaining Strip-side amusement park (yay, Circus Circus!), but despite the failed family-friendly attempts of tourism officials, children do still come here. Why, I’ll never know, but come they do. And while it may be a score for a teenage boy to happen upon one of those cards, clearly it raises a whole series of questions that his family on vacation probably has no desire to address at that moment. Or, perhaps, ever.

So, if while walking with the family you spy ahead an unavoidable London Bridge-style gauntlet of “porn peddlers,” I suggest placing the kids tightly in front as a sort of decency shield. Parents, grip the shoulder of the child in front of you, and cling tightly to your spouse as if you were actually walking in Times Square, circa 1980. Stare straight ahead, maintain a neutral expression and power through—no stray hands. See! We are a happy family! We have no need for Entertainers Direct to Our Room!

Chances are, the peddlers will let you pass undisturbed. Remember: They have mothers, too. But if they persist, resist any primal urge to reach for a booty-embellished card, or else you will (a) be barraged with dozens more, and (b) likely do what most do: litter them to the ground. And that’s just not cool. What do you think this is, New York?

Questions? AskaNative@VegasSeven.com.



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