Well, thank goodness the bronze butts are safe.
One of the memorable sights from last month’s closing of the Riviera in Las Vegas was the Crazy Girls statue strapped to a flatbed truck. The statue, of course, depicts seven topless showgirls with bare behinds, from the back, arms around each other—and standing in front of countless bald, middle-aged tourists in Bermuda shorts getting their naughty pictures with the bronze babes in front of the Riv showroom over the years.
First time I ever saw the statue in the sunlight. The bronze-babe butts are actually gold-colored. I’d like to know who polishes them. And how I get that job. But I digress…
Crazy Girls, the irreverent, sexy show that finished its 28-year run at the Riv only because they closed the casino that was wrapped around it, will reopen at Planet Hollywood. Just as soon as they get more stuff.
While the bronze babes were shipped off to one warehouse, everything else from the show—costumes, lights, computers, an entire box-truck full of lingerie—left for a separate warehouse. Then, that second truck was stolen. Someone pinched the stuff from the parking lot of the Stage Crew Productions warehouse in the middle of the night by hot-wiring the Enterprise rental truck containing all the show equipment.
They found the rental truck empty and abandoned a day later. They say 98 percent of the show’s wardrobe and 80 percent of its technology are gone—$200,000 worth of stuff altogether. Producers say they’ll have to start from scratch to put the show back on at Planet Hollywood.
Or, they can just keep their eyes out for someone putting on a sexy revue show from the back of a truck. Seriously, what is someone going to do with all that used lingerie? Never mind. I don’t even want to know.
The only other thing that vexes me is how thieves managed to get through the iron web of security used to protect the $200,000 worth of equipment:
“Hey, should we leave this stuff in the parking lot overnight?”
“Don’t worry—it’s in a truck. No one ever steals a truck.”
I’m guessing heads will roll over this, but hey, I’m speaking figuratively. It’s not like Sheldon Adelson was in charge of protecting that truck.
In case you don’t understand that right-smart segue, casino mogul Sheldon Adelson found himself answering questions in a Las Vegas courtroom last month about whether he knew of a plot to behead his employees in Macau.
Adelson was testifying in a preliminary hearing for the wrongful-termination lawsuit filed against him by former Sands China chief Steven Jacobs. Jacobs is claiming Adelson ordered him to collect sensitive information on Chinese officials for potential blackmail purposes, which Adelson vehemently denies. But Jacobs’ attorney threw him a curve by asking him if he knew of a plot to behead Las Vegas Sands employees in Macau. He was alluding to dealings LVS was rumored to have with a Macau organized crime figure who ran junkets.
After stressing that LVS never did business with the junket operator, Adelson said, “If somebody is going to chop my employees’ heads off, of course I would be interested. But he wasn’t.”
It’s good to know Sheldon Adelson opposes beheading his employees. That would be a bit harsh. Unless, of course, they were running internet casinos.
By the way, this was only the preliminary hearing to determine whether this lawsuit will be heard in Las Vegas or Macau (Vegas, it turns out). I can’t wait for the main event.
Finally, both the Tropicana and Hooters casino-hotels in Las Vegas were sold last month. Penn National’s real-estate investment trust bought the Trop for $360 million and New York investment company CBRE Group paid $70 million for Hooters.
To Penn National: Please put back the gold trim across the top of the Tropicana’s hotel towers. It’s supposed to be the Tiffany of the Strip, not a veteran’s hospital in Cleveland.
To CBRE Group: Please do some good placement services for those female Hooters dealers. As they say, a poker table at Hooters is the only place where a pair beats a full house. (Ba-boom!) As far as the rest of the place, lose those surfboards and other beach displays in the room corridors. It’s not like male gamblers crowded into Hooters for the pool.
Oh, and replace the hotel with something that’s, you know, nice.
Hey, maybe they can make a statue of the Hooters dealers. I know of a bronze statue that could be repurposed. Let me know when the flatbed truck gets there.
And whatever you do, don’t leave it in the parking lot overnight.
Or heads will roll.