The Magic Scale

Way back in the day, well, actually I know exactly which day (8.28.2000) I stole the Magic Scale.

I was staying at the legendary Desert Inn on its last night open to the public. It was a bittersweet event to say the least, a humid night during monsoon season in the desert, when the air hung as heavy as the spirits of those who gathered to bid the grand dame of casino resorts adieu.

A couple of days earlier I had been at the closing party for the famed Kahiki restaurant in Columbus, Ohio -- that event http://dirtydonnyart.blogspot.com/2008/06/kahiki-closing-party-back-in-year-2000.html

(though sad in the respect an icon on the National Historic Register and the coolest Tiki bar/restaurant EVER would be reduced to rubble for a Walgreen's) rocked.

I was a little jet-lagged and hung over (too many Grogs, Scorpions, Viscious Virgins, Dirty Bastards, Mai Tais, and Champagne . . . but who's counting?) when I hit Vegas and the Desert Inn -- which could have added to the depression -- still the Desert Inn's going away party was just plain weird, and not in a good way.

Ironically, I had never stayed at the Desert Inn before, for a simple reason -- I couldn't afford it.

The Desert Inn was a classy joint, but for it's last day, for some strange reason, a room could be had for a song, or around $100 bucks anyway.

Maybe I have a morbid streak . . . or I'm a glutton for punishment, I don't know. . . I like to think I'm a preservationist . . . but even someone with my bent should have known that the Desert Inn didn't stand a chance. After all, it was 50 years old, and in Vegas, a Golden Anniversary is tatamount to a golden bullet. It rarely happens, and if it does it surely means death will shortly follow.

It was Steve Wynn who dealt the final blow. After losing the Mirage, Treasure Island, and the Bellagio to MGM he set his sights on the DI, and an opportunity to show Vegas he wasn't done here. After buying the Desert Inn shortly after it celebrated it's 50th http://robison.casinocitytimes.com/articles/394.html, and promising the staff he wouldn't close the property, he did just that.

As you can imagine, those left to work the final night weren't happy. Souvenirs went fast -- the matchbooks were the first to go. By the time I checked in to my luxury room, and got down to the bar, freebies were scarce. I was however granted the ultimate gem, a gold DI charm by a cocktail waitress who poured me the strongest Cosmo I'd ever drunk (Cosmos were still cool in 2000, before Sex in the City ruined them for all of us).

I wandered around the casino, lingering with the patrons who included those trying to scoop up the last dice thrown on the craps felt, and then in a haze plopped onto a chaise lounge by the pool basking in the glow of a full moon peeking in and out of lingering thunderheads.

It was a wonderful feeling, until security came by to roust me back to my room.

I guess I missed the whole 2 a.m. everyone needs to leave the casino bum rush, I was stumbling upstairs at the time.

After a few hours of sleep and sleeping it off, I rose to the realization that soon I would have to pack up and leave the DI to its inevitable demise. As I found the marble bathroom I was especially impressed with the scale on the floor. How many hotel/resorts have this amenity? I stepped on, and was amazed at the reading -- 95 lbs!!! I hadn't weighed 95 lbs for over 20 years. Now granted, I am not anorexic, just short, 5 feet tall and 95 lbs is like, my dream weight. I had found the MAGIC SCALE!

Of course I had to have it -- and yes, that meant stealing it, but all this stuff was going to get blown to smithereens anyway, right? After all, I paid the price of admission, and though usually not one to swipe anything more than the toiletries, this was only between me and that scumbag Steve Wynn.

I packed up the scale, the pretty much everything else I could find that wasn't nailed down and could fit in my rolling bag.

After hustling my loot and booty out to my car, under the careless eyes of the security guards and other disgruntled soon to be ex-employees, I returned to snap a few last minute photos and kiss the Desert Inn goodbye.

For years I kept the Magic Scale in the closet, instead using my old icky scale that weighed me at all sorts of embarassing digits. You see, I just couldn't bear for the DI magic to lose it's lustre.

When I finally moved to Las Vegas in 2007, and was slim again from the stress and physical exertion of the ordeal, I lovingly unwrapped the Magic Scale, and proudly placed it down in my bathroom, back home again in Las Vegas. I stepped on, and magically once again weighed 95lbs.

Alas, that should be the end of this fairy tale, but in wicked Sin City, sentiment is trumped by cruel reality every time.

The Magic Scale has shown that I have gained 10 lbs.