Monday, August 29, 2011

Shaking up the Peppermill - no pants required

As I mentioned earlier, one of my very favorite parts about the Vegas trip was the fact that I went for 5 full days without wearing pants.

Have I mentioned that I love Las Vegas? In many ways, Vegas is depressing and seedy and sort of scary dirty. But in other ways it is full of awesomeness. Like in the ways of not wearing pants. It's not as though I was lounging about in my suite, or swanning around poolside.....I left the hotel every single day. I was shopping, eating in restaurants, working, and attending meetings. Without pants.

How is this possible, you ask? Well, it's partly the spirit of the event I was attending, and partly because the cocktail waitresses in every casino are rarely wearing pants.

Mostly, it was because The Peppermill Las Vegas is the awesomest place on the face of the planet.

One would be hard pressed to "sum up" the Peppermill. Half of the restaurant is actually a lounge with water features surrounding firepits all snuggled up between banquettes. And the cocktail waitresses are in floor length black gowns, carrying cocktail trays. And yes, they have a Scorpion Bowl.

But then, the other half of the restaurant is this crazy Alice-In-Wonderland-meets-50's-diner mind fuck. The waitresses on this side are dressed in little pastel pinafores and white blouses, almost Mormon-esque in their innocence. These girls don't serve alcohol - if you want booze they send over one of the ladies in black to take your order for the devil's juice. The tables are lit with neon and surrounded by white trees with christmas lights, everything is carpeted and cushioned and upholstered to within an inch of it's life.

It's open 24 hours a day with the full menu served the whole time, and when I marched in on three different occasions without any pants on, no one batted a carefully mascara'd eyelash. Heaven on Earth.

So if you find yourself in Vegas at 3am, and your pants are missing, and you are craving a bowl full of spiked punch and maybe some mashed potatoes (and who hasn't been I right?) you should go directly to the Peppermill where they will treat you like royalty, even if the emperor isn't wearing any pants. I mean, clothes.

And then afterwards, I suggest a nice nap over at the Cosmopolitan. That place is pretty cool too.

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