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	Backstairs   At   The    Monte Carlo   A Vegas Memoir!    By Gaylon Kent

The Lineup The Daily Dose This ain't going to read itself, campers. Notes from around the Human Experience, including On This Date, Trivia, the Thought for the Day and the Column Four Foto! The Bottom Ten The dregs of college and professional football battle it out for the Wal-Mart Trophy Presented By Motel 6 and The Dan Henning Trophy! Chuck Baldwin We're not right-wing Evangelicals here, but 1) Rev. Baldwin writes for free, and, 2) concerned citizens (you) will enjoy Rev. Baldwin's tasty, democracy-themed tidbits. He is the Constitution Party's nominee for President. Backstairs At The Monte Carlo A Memoir By Gaylon Kent! Coming soon! FAQs

Ever wonder what happens behind the scenes in Las Vegas? Well, find out anyway! Spend a year and a half on the graveyard seurity crew at the Monte Carlo Hotel and Casino on the glamorous Las Vegas Strip!

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A little while later X-Ray and I move on a noise complaint at 22-202. We arrive and find the door to 22-202 lined with yellow police tape reading                         Bachelorette Party! Wild Women Inside.      X-Ray and I look at each other. I point out to him the 202 rooms are hot tub suites. We both smile.      "Yeah," I said, nodding my head vigorously. "Cue the cheesy porn music."      X-Ray laughed.      We knock and the door is answered by this really foxy, young brunette in a nice, skimpy bikini. Foxy in a girl-next-door-way, too. In no way fat, but it's plain she appreciates a square meal. Her legs go all the way to ground, and X-Ray and I are pleased to not she's also stacked from here to Reno. I also note, professionally, of course, that there are no less than six really foxy young ladies in the room, all thoughtfully wearing skimpy bikinis. They were in town to celebrate someone's impending nuptials. We are still not sure whose though.      X-Ray and I walk in authoritatively. In a raw display of my authority, I hitch my pants up.      The pretty brunette asks if they were making too much noise and I purse my lips and nod solemnly to signify the heinous nature of their crime; X-Ray stands by pretending to look stern, which he's pretty good at.      "Are these the strippers?!" a girl in the hot tub asks.      I really would like to be able to report we said, yeah, we're the strippers, cued the cheesy porn music, and got busy, but you can't really do that. Life doesn't work out that well, for Pete's sake.      I hitched up my pants again and pretended to scold them.      "You girls are pretty noisy in here."      "But it's Vegas bay-bee!" announced one of the girls in the hot tub.      The pretty brunette looked at me accusingly, as if that announcement solved everything. It was pretty funny.      "Yeah, what about that?" she demanded. "It is Vegas."      I nodded.      "Good point. But as hard as it is to believe, your neighbors are trying to sleep."      The girls pretended to be shocked. You could see it in their eyes: who the hell sleeps in Vegas? I raised my hands plaintively, showing our full support of their plight.

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