At the beginning of our time in Las Vegas, we were there for a customer conference—roll out the red carpet. Mandalay Bay was perfect for that. When we walked into our room last Sunday, the wall opposite the door was floor-to-ceiling windows, with a view of the Strip. The bathroom was beautiful: granite countertops with two sinks, a soaking tub, and a separate shower. And as I already mentioned, we had a nice king-size bed.
Then after the customers left, there was a much smaller employee conference (since so many of us were already in town) where J.P. and I were asked to teach. But apparently Mandalay was a bit on the pricey side for us internal folks, so we moved to Aladdin. I don’t know what the difference was in the price of the rooms, but it must have been significant. While it wasn’t a dump, it certainly was no Mandalay Bay. And really, it wasn’t even up to Hampton Inn standards (trust me, I know). I took a few pics and threw together a diagram of the room as a demonstration. First, the diagram:
The color scheme isn’t entirely accurate, but the hues were similar to what you see here. The part that bugged me was how poorly the furniture fit in the room—it just made me feel cramped and uncomfortable. The round table really did hang over the bed. And the desk near the other bed was so close to it that there was no hope of fitting a chair in between. That’s why the chair was wedged into the corner near my head, practically touching the bed. Also notice the institutional size of the window. If we’d been on a lower floor, there might have been bars to discourage an escape attempt.
But what really sums up the cheese factor are the images below.
Here it kind of looks like a cowboy theme, but it was actually supposed to be Moroccan. The primary colors just made it look cheap, and the metallic silver doily didn’t help. What really killed me was the scent. The bar of soap that was displayed so nicely on the soaking tub smelled exactly like Vicks Vapo Rub. Just how I want to smell when I head out for a night on the town in Sin City.
They didn’t even trust us with real glass. I’m not sure if this says more about the hotel or its clientele. Are they afraid we might steal glass? Or just concerned that it might shatter into a million pieces when we knock it to the bathroom floor in a drunken stupor? I have to give them a little credit though—its souvenir-worthy quality is a step up from the college-keg-party plastic cups featured at many hotels.
Fortunately, we only spent one night here before heading home. That’s right—we’re HOME! But the journey wasn’t without its own adventures. More about that soon.