One of my friends at the Desert Inn back in the 1970’s worked in the Accounting Department. He was a young guy of Lebanese descent and bald as an eagle, except for a little fringe around the surrey on top. He was a little porky, but not overly so. He also was one of the suave guys who didn’t wear underpants. He’d recently purchased a new toupee that actually looked halfway decent. But, in those days, it was not stitched to his scalp.
One day while in the Accounting Office, he needed something from the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet. Well, down he went and his trousers couldn’t take the sudden stretch; with a noise that could not be ignored, they ripped wide open and exposed everything he possessed for all of the world to see. And, I mean everything. And, just as all of the gals in the office focused their eyes on the event, his toupee unceremoniously plopped onto the floor. He took the rest of the day off.
The Landmark was one of the tallest and skinniest buildings in Vegas. Up on the 29th floor, we had some nice suites where we put the big rollers. There was a boxing event going on in town and only one suite remained. A good customer of mine by the name of Gunnar showed up and wanted a suite. I went to the Front Desk to secure to suite and was informed that it had been taken for a wedding party. So, I did the best I could and moved Gunnar to a suite in an adjoining building.
Gunnar was not a happy camper and, as soon as the wedding party was over, I moved him back into the tower. “Gunnar,” I told him, I’d be a little nervous up there if I were you. When the wind blows, that top portion sways back and forth and the engineers have told us that one of these days, it’s going to go all of the way over.” Of course, he laughed at that.
Unbeknownst to me, they were having an underground test at the atomic energy site north of Vegas the next morning. Went it went off, the ground in Vegas moved and the tower actually swayed back and forth. Gunnar ended up in the lobby in his shorts and with shaving foam on his face, screaming “Move me back to the room I had yesterday!”
One day when I was working at the Maxim, I had occasion to go to the top of the Dunes for lunch. On the way up the elevator, I ran across a customer of mine from Waco. “What are you doing over here?” I asked.
Of course, he was embarrassed. “Uh, I’ve got a friend who is getting married here,” he lied.
“Well, Jerry,” I told him, “Whenever you have chips to cash out at the Maxim, you always get paid, right? You never know about some of these fly-by-night hotels, and I hear the Dunes is in big money trouble.” Of course, he knew I was teasing him and he promised to come by before he left town to have dinner and play some cards.
The next morning, the Feds raided the cashier’s cage at the Dunes and Jerry, who had won $10,000 there the night before, was unable to cash in his chips. Yes, those things happened in those days, and I had made a believer out of Jerry.
More of my wild, wild tales of the past next Wednesday. See you then, but don’t forget to catch my weekend gab.
No comments:
Post a Comment