My gambling brought us free tickets to the Joan Rivers show mentioned in the last post. Also mentioned was my relative ignorance regarding Las Vegas and money.
Howevah . . . my ignorance was not total, if only because some things are universal.
When Mandy and I headed for the appropriate theater, I slipped a folded twenty into my right hand and used my left hand to direct Mandy, ever so subtly, toward whatever point seemed most likely to provide happiness. A gent with a book outlining all possible chair and table arrangements seated us, but only after I had shaken hands with him and announced that we were visiting from Chicago. He returned the handshake enthusiastically and hoped that we would enjoy not only the show biut the rest of our stay as well.
At that point our relative weights had exchanged hosts by the weight of one twenty dollar bill, and he lifted the cordon separating two imaginary classes of patrons, dropped it on the other side of us, and murmured "Any place you wish." I asked Mandy to choose a spot, she did, and our host seated us, bowed, and disappeared.
A couple of minutes later, while Mandy and I were awaiting our drinks, our host seated a party of six, all late twenties in age, I should think, a couple of tables away from us, and thus below the salt. Immediately, the group's alpha male began whining, "We were hoping for a better location than this. Can't we do better than this?"
(Ha! Yes, you can, but not by whining.)