July 25, 2009
Fortunately (or unfortunately depending on your point of view), the “party pit” trend in Las Vegas continues unabated.
Last night, I checked out Downtown’s two newest offerings. The Las Vegas Club’s “Fetish Pit” and The Plaza’s “Aqua Pit”.
Frankly, I did not know that the LVC’s pit even existed until this week. I was alerted to its presence via a thread on my forums (thank you Chuck R.), and since I had planned on being Downtown on Friday night anyway, I felt it my civic duty to check the place out.
Like many other girlie pits, the Fetish Pit was located at the entrance to the casino in order to snag male passersby. This tactic seemed to work to reasonable effect, as there was a fairly good amount of men rotating in and out of the tables. Never underestimate the power of Boobjack.
I grabbed a seat at the “naughty nurse” table, and was greeted with a pleasant surprise. I mean, besides the obvious mounds of female human protuberances. Fine, the nurses boobs were fake, but it never ceases to amaze me how many women think this matters to us in the slightest bit.
Most adult males will have a good spank to Jessica Rabbit and she is completely fictitious. I’ve never heard any man say “I stared at her boobs until I realized they were fake, then I turned away”.
As a matter of fact, in many cases fake is absolutely preferable. If a man’s choice is between perfectly sculpted rock hard silicone, or real boobs with areolas hovering somewhere near the belly button, I assure you that most of us would choose the former. And by “most of us”, I mean “all of us”.
Ladies, if you are considering whether or not to get fake boobs, allow me to make your decision for you. Do it.
Don’t do it for yourself, do it for me.
Jesus I’m easily distracted. What in the hell was I … oh yeah, I was greeted with a surprise at the table.
As I fished out a few greenbacks and checked the table odds, I was very surprised to see that I was playing at a $5 3:2 table. The Strip really needs to get itself together, because Downtown (which officially includes the Stratosphere) is just crucifying properties like Harrah’s with far superior gaming offerings.
Not only was I playing at a dirt-cheap, full-odds table on a Friday night, not only was I playing with a hot nurse, not only was the pit boss a really nice dude, but I could look up and see the firm asses of a cadre of PG-14 rated strippers throughout the session.
You see, I’m an ass man. And not in the Steve Jobs/Steve Wynn kind of way. I actually like women in the normal XY chromosomal way. To be hyper-specific, I like the posteriors of attractive women between 22 and 29 years old who weigh somewhere in the vicinity of 120lbs. I will concede 2-3 pounds for every inch of height above 5’6, but visually, I’m incredibly superficial.
I do realize that I am nothing to look at, but it’s irrelevant. I don’t get on podiums and dance around in a thong. I don’t wear spandex. Hell, I don’t even wear shorts. If ugly people were as self-aware as I am, the world would be a far better place.
Fortunately, the women in the Las Vegas Club Fetish Pit did not have this problem. They were hot.
I struck up a conversation with the naughty nurse, and she told me that the pit has been open for about 3 weeks, and that she was glad I was there. Looks and friendliness is a hard combination to beat.
Given that she was a nurse, I decided to kill two birds with one stone. I informed her that I had just turned forty one and that it was time for my annual prostate exam. I asked for her assistance, and I also told her that I would be perfectly happy to turn my head and cough whenever she was ready.
Fortunately, she laughed at all of my stupid innuendo. You would be surprised by the amount of eye-candy in this town who are completely unaware that they’re eye candy. About half of the women in Vegas who make a living prancing around in next to nothing actually believe in all of the “respect for women” mumbo jumbo. They simply don’t see the irony in it.
Fortunately, the other half are willing to humor people like myself in exchange for higher net income, and these are the type of women that I actually have respect for. The women who understand the product they’re selling, and who excel at their jobs.
Kudos to the LVC for hiring top quality dealers. I was dealt to by several women in different costumes throughout the evening, and they all had top notch service personalities … and were damn good dealers to boot.
Since I was doing quite well from a gambling perspective (I roughly doubled up in an hour), since there were only a few women working the pit to split the tips, and since they were all great … I tipped more than usual at the Fetish Pit. I would have brought home more money had the women not been fantastic hosts, but they did try hard to keep me entertained. It also didn’t hurt that the cards came out favorably for the women. I placed 10-15 bets for the dealers throughout the session, and I believe all but one was a winner.
After finishing up at the Fetish Pit, I headed over to the other west-Fremont party pit. The Plaza has something called the “Aqua Pit”, and they have one hell of a slick advertisement. Women in pajamas with huge melons and an F me look on their face.
As I walked to the Plaza, I was fairly excited. The Plaza is a larger property than the LVC, and if the Fetish Pit was good … I could only image that the Aqua Pit would be even better.
Sometimes it’s better to have low expectations.
When I got to the Aqua Pit, the women dealers were wearing psychedelic tie-dyed t-shirts, and few people were playing at the tables. I approached one of the dealers, and asked “Is this the Aqua Pit?”. The dealer had no idea what I was saying. She did not speak English.
She motioned for another female pit boss to come over to find out what I wanted. The pit woman walked up to me, and after I repeated my question, she said to me in a heavy accent “Yes, this is Aqua Pit, you gonna play or not?” I felt like I was being scolded by my Asian mother for coming in second place in the spelling bee. I felt like I should apologize for interrupting them.
I was turned off. This was not erotic. It was actually a bit rude. It also illustrates a point that I have made in earlier articles. It’s easy to increase short-term profits by hiring cheap, unskilled labor, but it costs so much more in the long run.
If the dealers in your skin pit aren’t showing any skin, do not speak the language, and the pit boss is cranky … then what’s the point?
Given that the LVC and The Plaza are owned by the same people, this surprised me. They certainly seemed to “get it” in one pit, and completely fumbled the ball in the other.
I’m not going to harp on the Aqua Pit too much, because things can and do change in this town from one night to the next, and your experiences can and will vary. I’m going back to Downtown tonight, and I may drop by the Plaza again to see if it was just an off evening.
As of today, however, I give two thumbs and a third appendage “up” to the Fetish pit, and a shrug of impotence to the Aqua Pit.
Lest I forget, I also have to be honest about one more thing. While the party pit trend blasts full steam ahead … the novelty is starting to wear off for me ever so slightly. Perhaps because I frequent the casinos, becoming jaded is simply a normal progression. You just can’t be awed by the same concept each and every day. Constant exposure to something leads to natural desensitization.
When I first visited the Pussycat Pit back in 2007, it was great. The Flamingo X Pit was next, then Planet Hollywood’s Pleasure Pit, then Excalibur’s. Every time a new pit was established, I was pretty psyched.
However, the uniqueness factor upped the value back then, and when a particular concept crosses the threshold of novelty to omnipresence, it risks becoming routine.
Right now, all of the party pits are PG rated. Last night, I actually spotted several baby strollers making their way around the Fetish Pit.
While I really do like the concept of the pits, I think they need to be taken up a notch and made more “adult”. Bustiers are great, but topless would be better. It’s a well-known fact that the more aroused men are, the more willing they are to part with their money.
Las Vegas needs to get over its inner-prude, and start living up to the “What Happens Here” hype.
That being said, as these novelty pits proliferate, at the very least … the trend is promising.
Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.