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Sometimes alcohol does the talking. And by the time that rumor is regurgitated in another conversation, on the following night, from one barstool to the next, a dozen drinks, a few hours of sleep, and two bad beats at the poker table later, that rumor probably bears little or no significance to its original telling. Throw a little smoke or coke into the mix, and the next rumor you will hear is that Kirk Kerkorian is sleeping with a herd of elephants.
Every "one industry" town has its rumor mill -- a proverbial gossip factory that churns out innuendo like mush pulp from a sawmill. It doesn't matter if the rumors are true or not. Rumor is sport. From Albany to Zurich, the conversation usually starts off with four innocent words: "Here's what I heard……" Of course, in Zurich those words would be uttered in German or French -- but you get the point. One industry towns -- such as Washington, Hollywood, and Las Vegas -- all have this commonality. In Washington, whether it's politicos on Capitol Hill or lobbyists running up and down K Street, all the $1500 suits cram the bars at 5:30 sharp to mull the events of today and plan the wars of tomorrow. Hollywood has its own subculture of slime-ball agents, actors, technicians, and producers who bounce off each other like the metal ball trapped inside a pin-ball machine. In Las Vegas, the industry is still gambling -- despite the convention bureau's efforts to re-shape the public image of this great city as a "family destination." Executives, dealers, and all the rest have their favorite hangouts -- but the conversations are pretty much the same everywhere. At it's core, Las Vegas remains a haven for outlaws and outcasts -- those (of us) who don’t quite get the "9 to 5" routine and gave up trying to fit into white-picket fence society a long time ago. Fuck Normal Rockwell. In short, we feel more comfortable standing at a craps table than in a grocery store checkout line. We understand a linesheet more easily than a bank statement. Some of us were the kids your parents warned you not to play with when you were little. We meet and gossip in the bars and lounges -- whether it be 9 am or 9 pm. Indeed, Las Vegas is perhaps the only city in the world where you can order two shots of Jack Daniels at 9 am, and no one, server nor customer, will bat an eyelash. Case in point: I went to a Little League baseball game with a friend a few days ago here in town, to watch his son play. The kids were no more than 10 years old. Most of the time, they couldn't hit the ball out of the infield. Of course, my friend and I had to have money on the game -- so I took the team in red and he took the team in white, for a cool $100. I doubt if you see hundred dollar bets on the Little League games in Peoria or Texarkana. But, the Las Vegas culture is different. Of course, the bullpen ended up screwing me again. Las Vegas, in many ways, also remains very much a "small town." I've run into (by accident) the mayor, Oscar Goodman, twice. We even managed to chat a good ten minutes on the second occasion without the least bit of distraction. Try to talk to the mayor of any other city of a million people in America, and see how many minutes you get face-to-face. Like I said, small town. And, I love it. It's not unusual to run into big names in gambling at the grocery store or a local restaurant. I've run into Bob Stupak more times that I can possibly count. I'm not sure who that reflects worse on -- him or me. In restaurants, casinos, at valet parking, even at the airport once. I could go on and on with other big names many would recognize, but the point is -- it is common to see living gambling legends almost every single day in this town. I think that "closeness" of the small town creates a tighter-knit community where people tend to know each other's business more than usual. In any other large city of this size, citizens tend to stay within their own subcultures -- whether that be their local neighborhoods or business circles. That means you rarely see the mayor or a powerful business executive, unless it's at an event specifically designed for the big wheel to make an appearance. But in Las Vegas, literally everything is connected to the gambling industry -- which is why it's so easy to run into an icon like Goodman or Stupak on a daily basis. This creates closer bonds and more human contact. Consequently, Las Vegas is a city where rumors bounce around like the little white ball hitting the roulette wheel. I don't know if it's the alcohol talking or the 24-hour-a-day nature of the town. But if you are connected to the gambling industry in any way, everyone has their nose in everyone else's business. Here's a few examples that prove the point. Before the so-called "official announcement" that the Golden Nugget (Downtown) was going to be sold, half the city already knew about it. In another instance, Steve Wynn is currently putting up a new casino on The Strip. The girders are barely up, and there is already speculation the casino will have a 35-table poker room. Where did that come from? There were even some rumors about a year ago that Binion's Horseshoe might close because of financial constraints (not true, and never even a remote possibility -- despite what was reported in the media). I could get into more of the rumors about the Horseshoe (most of which simply are not and never were true), but that's beyond the point. When it comes to people -- the rumors get even more interesting. It's one thing to float rumors at 4 in the morning about a casino. It's something else (usually far more interesting) when rumors surface about the private lives of people everyone in gambling would recognize. I would never repeat these rumors, because to do so could be harmful to innocent people. I would certainly never publish these rumors, because it would flat out be wrong to do so. But I cannot help but mention that innuendo is a significant part of the underground life of this city. I also believe the bigger one gets in the business, the more speculation (and rumors) there are about that person's financial standing, personal affiliations, background -- even sexual interests (you should hear some of these rumors!). Of course, no one is talking or cares about the kinky sexual habits of the guy who takes out the garbage on the swing shift at the Imperial Palace, but you can be sure the casino owners and executives are raked over the coals in the bars and lounges of Las Vegas, especially when they are serving two shots of Jack Daniels at 9 in the morning. Like I said, sometimes the alcohol does the talking. And by the time that rumor is regurgitated in another conversation the following night from one barstool to the next, a dozen drinks, a few hours of sleep, and two bad beats later, that rumor probably bears little or no significance to its original telling. Throw a little pot or coke into the mix, and the next rumor you will hear is that Kirk Kerkorian is sleeping with a herd of elephants. Indeed, the rumors within the gambling world are more outrageous than anything that likely goes on in other places (perhaps Hollywood is the exception, here). You really can't believe what you hear in this town, unless it's from a respected source -- and even that could be a "Kerkorian sleeps with elephants story." Slowly but surely, I've come to trust only what I know and see. It's not enough for me to hear rumor or speculation. I want to see it with my own eyes. Of course, in this city so of many illusions, even my eyes may deceive me.
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