05/28/2026
A Day in the Life of a Vegas "Tour Guide"
Or at least, that’s what the tax forms say. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves with the word "virtue."
One tour today. Business is a slow grind these days.
The clients? A couple. He’s American, she’s from Germany, and they both call Germany home now. He was soorting a gold necklace with a gold "cornicello" which is a little Italian horn or p***s meant to ward off the evil eye and summon a bit of luck. I respect it because my old woman is from Naples and I’ve got a red plastic one hanging off my own house keys. You need all the protection you can get out here from the demons that lurk around every corner. Slumpt over in the fentynol fold as they call it. She was tall, blue-eyed, wearing brown cowboy boots. They zipped from the sides.
They were actually engaging. They kept me awake, kept me interested, and for a fleeting moment, made me not hate the job. These are the walks I roll outta bed for. When someone can actually hold a real conversation and offer something deeper than a "uh-huh" or a "yeah, sure, okay."
Finally, grown adults who don't rely on cheap Gen Z slang in a desperate, pathetic attempt to stay relevant and let me be clear about something... If the words "it’s giving" or "stimi" are part of your everyday vocabulary... do me a favor and film yourself punching yourself square in the front teeth, send that sh*t to me and never, ever book one of my tours.
Here’s a quick reel of what I looked at today. Honestly? Same s**t, different day.
I’m completely desensitized. Living in Las Vegas will systematically strip the joy right out of your life because no matter where else you travel in the world, you’ve already seen worse right here on the Strip. Today was a fairly G-rated day. And my favorite character for the day... Broke Ass Retired Stripper
And for the record, I'll never learn how to steam milk. Been failing for a year.