Before we get started here, I’ll completely ‘fess up on three counts. I’m not a gambler. I’m not a clubber. And, I’m past my prime (or so they say). Suffice to say Vegas is not my kind of town.
Still, I was somewhat titillated when, during a recent trip to Vegas, a friend told us he’d secured a VIP room at one of the town’s most exclusive clubs, Tao. We were staying with a friend, who is a big gambler, at the Venetian. As hotels do with all poor souls who hemorrhage large sums of money in their casinos, they provided us with a huge piano adorned suite, complete with 24-hour butler and limo driver, and unlimited drinks and food at the Venetian’s many fine restaurants. They also provided us access to, security (what do you need security for I wondered?) and a private room, and fully stocked bar at Tao.
Our crowd of ten, ranging in age from thirty-six to forty-five, arrived at Tao at midnight. It was a complete scene. About a hundred people, most in their twenties, standing outside queued up trying to get in with a half dozen police and security personnel. We were quickly whisked past the crowd and ushered thru a private door. A large man who seemed like he was trying to imitate Kevin Costner in The Bodyguard led us thru the thick crowd and tunnel-like entry. To the right, in something that resembled a display case, were two dark haired women. One was lying on her stomach clad in a loincloth. The other straddled on her and was rubbing oil on the loincloth-clad woman’s bare buttocks.
I soon discovered why the security escort was necessary. We never would have made it up to our private room without him. The crowds were just too intense and wild—with everyone dancing pressed up against one another—oblivious to the fact that someone was trying to get by. It took ten minutes to get to the room. Once safely inside, I breathed a sigh of relief and saddled up to the balcony’s edge to peer out onto the smoke-filled scene below.
