Vegas Seven

Comrade Grumpy

  • Peeve of the Week

    Drugstore Capital of the World

    Once upon a time, the Strip’s casinos enticed visitors with cool signs, fountains, gardens, statues—even fake volcanoes. No more.

  • Peeve of the Week

    A Dearth of New Year’s Eve Options

    All the usual New Year’s Eve complaints are justified and well-worn: It’s strictly for twice-a-year drinkers; you can’t get a cab; it never lives up to the hype, etc.

  • Comrade Grumpy’s Peeve of the Week

    Relentless Documentarians

    Got a social function to get to? Begin at “fashionably late” and tack on an hour. That crucial 60 minutes that used to be reserved for self-medication—when you weren’t expected to manage more than a few grunts of small talk—has been obliterated.

  • Comrade Grumpy

    Peeve of the Week: Relentless Documentarians

    Got a social function to get to? Begin at “fashionably late” and tack on an hour. That crucial 60 minutes that used to be reserved for self-medication—when you weren’t expected to manage more than a few grunts of small talk—has been obliterated. Now? That first hour is strictly for the picture rodeo.

  • Comrade Grumpy

    Peeve of the Week: The Taxicab Illuminati

    I have complained about the quality of taxi service in this town before, and I know I’m far from the only one. But at this moment—after having waited an hour for a cab that never showed up—I feel a particularly incandescent dislike of Las Vegas’ cabs, and I’ve got to preach it.

  • Comrade Grumpy

    Peeve of the Week: Hypocritical Dress Codes

    A few weeks ago, I tried getting into Inspire Theater but was turned away. I was wearing a button-down shirt, a pair of slim jeans, casual sneakers and—gasp—a baseball cap. Women didn’t clutch their purse and run to the other side of the road. Children didn’t call me a monster and run away from me. Police didn’t cite me for any sort of crime.

  • Comrade Grumpy

    Comrade Grumpy Would Like You to See a Movie Once in a While

    There you are in the middle of a perfectly serviceable conversation on the relative merits of Captain McLuskey’s law enforcement techniques when some bore sweeps the leg out from under you with a well-timed “I haven’t seen The Godfather!”

  • Comrade Grumpy

    Downtown’s March of Hipsterism as Inevitable as Five-Year Plan

    When they came for the old Fremont Street motels, I said, “Well, they were old and kind of ratty, anyway.” When they began opening up bars that served Strip-priced cocktails, I said, “I guess it’s nice to have options.”

  • Comrade Grumpy

    Comrade Grumpy’s Peeve of the Week: Free Refills

    I recently went out to lunch with a water-smart friend. This friend had in front of him two glasses, both of which he had emptied.

  • Comrade Grumpy

    Dressing (Way) Down

    I know lazy. Believe me, I really know lazy. So much so that if lazy were a career, Warren Buffett would be my butler.

  • Taxicab Blues

    There are times when I have to take a taxicab: whenever I’m going to and from McCarran, visiting any local bars I can’t access by foot or bicycle, and whenever I’m picking up my red Lada hatchback from Oleg the mechanic, whose handwritten invoices rival Ulysses in page count and in my difficulty to parse them. So I take cabs, which has been a largely pleasant experience so far; I haven’t had to deal with too many surly drivers, and I’ve yet to be long-hauled. But sometimes, just every so often, Steve Wynn is there.

  • Feh to Pharmaceutical Ads

    My leg is restless. I am suffering from gastric distress. Since 3 a.m. last Tuesday, dizziness has been an issue. I have joint pain and slight inflammation of the nostrils and eyelids. My hair is falling out. Last Tuesday, at 2:38 a.m., I woke up without any particular maladies. I had a lot on my mind, though, and I wanted to have less on my mind, so I turned on the television.

  • comrade grumpette

    Airport Shuttle Blues

    The moment I knew how thoroughly tourism dominated this burg? Back when I called to book an airport shuttle for a Christmas trip to my hometown and was told they only stopped at hotels. Where I come from, shuttles come right to your house. You know, so people who live there can get to the airport? But in Las Vegas, I had to haul my suitcase 10 blocks to the nearest tourist trap, only to learn that the stop had moved around the corner. To make matters worse, the driver only took cash, and he didn’t carry any change. No wonder I was the only passenger on the thing.

  • Comrade Grumpy’s Peeve of the Week

    The ESPiNation of Geography

    On March 29, 1976, the great illustrator Saul Steinberg secured his place in sports history with a New Yorker cover called “View of the World From 9th Avenue.” In the drawing, 50 percent of the United States consists of the blocks between Ninth and the Hudson River in New York City, and the other 50 percent is almost completely barren, save for a few lumps of stone somewhere near Denver and a grove of trees in Las Vegas.

  • Family-unfriendly Hoa’s

    Do you live in a neighborhood kept nice and tidy by a homeowners association? This is a good thing when it means little pocket parks for late-night dog-bladder duty. And a great thing when it means that the neighbor can’t permanently park his bug-spray van—the one with the ladder on top and the recluse-spider side mural—in front of your house.

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