Okay, okay, I know this looks like we're just having fun (pictured is my roommate and my friend Sylvia from Chicago), but I'm actually hard at work here.  I'm writing a story about Pickup Artists, and we followed them into Tryst at Wynn to watch their game.  And now it's time to write about it. 

I’m going around Las Vegas introducing myself to everybody I meet and asking for advice on living in the city. Everybody—really, EVERYBODY—is giving me a variation on the same speech:

“My best advice is don’t trust anybody. There are so many fake people here, and so many people will lie to you, so watch your back.”

Everybody thinks they’re the ONE trustworthy person in the city and that everybody else is out to get them.

I don’t think the math checks out on that one.

IN OTHER NEWS

Last night I went to Rain Nightclub at Palms with my friend Andrew the Actor. $30. Couldn’t get around it. We did get around waiting in line, though. Had a front-of-line pass. Yes, it was packed. Yes, everybody was looking good. But no, it wasn’t ALL that different from some of the Chicago clubs. The differences: they had a stage show, girls handing from wires and fabrics, which was different, and they had fire coming out of various metallic tubes and pipes.

Then Andrew and I went to the Playboy Club and Moon at Palms. Andrew’s manager set this up, so we didn’t have to pay or wait in line for that. And guess what: we had more fun there. Easier to meet people, for sure, but everybody was older and more boring than us.

Tomorrow I’m doing drinks with a “dancer.” Wish me luck.