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In a show of gentlemanliness, I offer to help the slightly uncomfortable teachers secure a lap dance for the divorce. In a slight downgrade of my gentlemanliness, I never return to the women, instead using my awesome reporter's notebook ($2.99; any drugstore) to talk to a stripper for the next two hours. "To someone from Minnesota we're sluts, but in Vegas this is a respectable job to the locals," says Sami, 33, who is known as the Fire Bitch because of her ability to light on fire a surprising number of her body parts. Sami says she's not that good at the gig, except for the fire part, because she's too straight-talking to give the guys the doting, ego-stroking GFE--girlfriend experience--for which they spend the big money. Sami doesn't drink, likes dogs a lot and just bought a really nice house. Toward the end of our chat, she lets me touch her breast to feel the implant. I cannot figure out if this is an intimate form of bonding or just a Vegas handshake.
The new Vegas has upped not only the sex but the violence as well. Boxing has been outdrawn by the Ultimate Fighting Championship (U.F.C.), a chain-link-caged, rule-free (unless you count "no biting, no eye-gouging"), bare-knuckle competition so bloody it once was decried by Senator John McCain and the American Medical Association, banned by New York State and dropped by pay-per-view cable. Match results are covered by the Las Vegas Review Journal's sports pages. At a bout last month, audience members included Shaquille O'Neal (who the owners say once asked them to change the date of a fight because he had a game), Juliette Lewis, Cindy Crawford and her husband, Rande Gerber. The sport, which seems to involve a lot of submission holds and smeared blood, may surpass both frat-house hazing and Mel Gibson films as the world's most homoerotic event. And while the hooting crowd is clearly loving it, my front-row seats are reminding me just how weak my stomach is.
The U.F.C. was bought and revamped in 2001 by second-generation Vegas tycoons Lorenzo, 35, and Frank Fertitta III, 42, brothers and co-owners of Station Casinos, who in their spare time practice Brazilian jujitsu, the technique of choice among top U.F.C. fighters. In fact, a series of buttons on the U.F.C. video game will allow you to fight as Lorenzo, who apparently is much stronger than he looks. Their parents gave them a bunch of local casinos, which, along with revenue made from consulting with Native Americans on casino operations, they have used to build the slick Green Valley Ranch Resort & Spa, a hotel about 15 minutes from the Strip that is the choice for celebrities who are too cool for the crowds. As in the Palms, the casino--which is on a different floor from the lobby and contains a food court--is for local regulars and the rooms are for tourist regulars. The Fertittas are building an even nicer hotel called Red Rock Station Resort and Casino, which they say will flood natural light into the casino. "It's way too competitive for that old-style casino of no bathrooms in restaurants and no TVs in the rooms," says Lorenzo, referring to layouts designed to send customers to the gaming areas. "Bring people here, give them a good time and make things convenient, and they'll gamble on their own time."