THE LANDMARK

Here's another tale or two of my past. 

When I was working at the Landmark Hotel in Las Vegas, my favorite of all places I have ever worked, I was the Executive Casino Host. A very good friend by the name of Bill Hofferd was a casino host there and we got along pretty well with each other. One night, I had just heard from my girlfriend that she was on her way over from work, so I parked myself at the bar to wait for her. Along came Bill with a hooker on his arm and he gets to where I am sitting and introduces her to me, adding, “He’s a very high roller and looking for some good company.”

Well, of course, this gal was all over me like glue when my girlfriend came sauntering up to the bar, and Bill was ducking out the side door on his way home. Thank God my girlfriend knew me well enough to know that, when I told her what had happened, I was telling the truth.

The next night, I was standing in the casino when an irate woman came up to me and asked me if I worked there. “Yes, ma’am. What seems to be the problem?”

Well, she started off on this long laundry list of complaints just about the time I saw Bill walking through the casino. I called him over to where we were standing and told the lady that she was in luck, here was Bill Hofferd who owned the place and he could help her with her problems. Then I ducked out the side door.

Yes, the two of us got along just fine.

I had a customer by the name of Morry who used to come in from Denver once a year. He was a consultant for a land sales outfit operating out of Pahrump, Nevada and was semi-retired. He depended on his Social Security and consulting checks to live. One night, he came in on his annual bender to the Landmark and sat down at a blackjack table next to a very inebriated high roller from the San Diego area I’ll call Jack.

Jack was betting $200 and $300 a hand at blackjack and leaning over to the roulette wheel behind him playing that at the same time. He was really stacking up the chips, winning almost every hand. Morry, always a $5 to $15 player with a $1,500 credit line, was soon drinking and betting $25 and $50 a hand. I could see trouble coming.

And, trouble did come. In the wee small hours of the morning, the hotel called me. Morry was up in his room on the 17th floor, handing out the window and threatening to jump. He had lost all of his $15,000 annual consulting check and instinctively knew that he was going to be in deep crapola when he got home to Denver. Security was in the room and they wanted me to talk to Morry to see if I couldn’t keep him from jumping.

So, I told Morry, “Morry, if you jump, I will never let you back into the Landmark Hotel.” He came back in from the window.

One night, I had three girls who all knew me well show up at the hotel within half an hour of each other. There was Debbi, who I had ensconced at the Sky Bar on the 27th floor, Susan who was in the coffee shop, and Tonya sitting at the Main Bar in the casino. I was going from one to the other, trying to figure out how to get out of this jam, and ended up back at the Sky Bar with Debbi, my real girlfriend, when I got a tap on my shoulder.

There was my pal Bill Hofferd with Susan and Tonya. “Bob,” he said, “These girls have been looking for you.”

See you next Wednesday.