how'd you like to be a cop in las vegas?
no, this isn't a recruiting post.
there are surely more thankless jobs in the world, but none immediately leap to mind.
outside a militarized mosh pit, where can you find more orchestrated chaos, invited debauchery, promoted drunkenness, and testosterone-propelled knuckle-headedness?
las vegas caters to masses of pent-up people eager to cross lines they might never cross at home. that's what the old "what happens in vegas stays in vegas" campaign told them they could do, anyway. and las vegas's finest are asked to referee this hilarity without antagonizing hoards of besotted bacchantes bankrolling the local economy.
does that job description sound attractive? how much would LVPD have to pay you to make it sound attractive? (it's a rhetorical question.)
the men and women who answer that call must have the patience of the sphinx and the stamina of sisyphus. a regiment of sisyphuses. sisyphii? a bunch of people embued with epic stamina, in any case.
* * * * *
more-thankless job #1: they face many of the same challenges as the LVPD, but they're less well-paid, not to mention unarmed. they're the security team at the las vegas hard rock hotel and casino. their employer puts on what they call 'rehab' parties, the flavor of which would be fabulous as a cable tv project named 'saturnalia gone wild'.
the anarchic premise is described as "Las Vegas' biggest, barest pool party [and] afternoon fleshfest" and it draws swarms of males like bees to macauley culkin.
it also brings in waves of scarcely-attired young women, most of whom are remarkably augmented with the latest in breast technology (or in-breast technology, if you prefer). all precariously balanced atop the tallest stiletto heels not licensed as stilts. i assume, but cannot confirm, that a significant percentage of these nubiles are working girls lending nuance to the clinical definition of 'rehab'.
[sidebar: we might reasonably call theirs "more-thankless job #2".]
affrenzied by loud, herd-driving rock music, the throng funnels through dark corridors that spill out into the glaring desert sunlight above the hard rock pool and gyrating grounds. the romans at their most depraved would have looked on with envy.
constantly circling the perimeter is the phalanx of wary and weary-looking fellows from hard rock security. they're ridiculously short-handed and under-muscled compared to the guests, but like the light brigade, theirs is not to reason why.
what they're looking for is open to debate since it seems everything short of a taser in the pool is acceptable and encouraged behavior.
full disclosure: i'm not in the demographic. i may have never been in the demographic. so it's possible everything described above is grossly mischaracterized. please do your own research and draw your own conclusions.
in the meantime, the las vegas convention and visitors authority would like you to know that "Las Vegas continues to capture the world's imagination as the destination where anything is possible."
i bet the LVPD would concur, if they had the time or the inclination. but while last week's ad hoc hedonists have returned to their regularly scheduled programming, this week's barbarians are at the gate. and the folks who patrol the really bright lines endure.
oh, the zumanity.
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