Grammar Errors in Las Vegas

Guest post written by Jessica Flynn.

I love Las Vegas, and there’s no better way to get a look at a cross-section of America. You’ll find groups of cowboys – complete with ten-gallon hats – on their bachelor parties, Chinese-American billionaires in sunglasses and $10,000 suits, and various groups of toothless hooligans from just about any state below the Mason-Dixon line.

When you arrive on your jet charter Las Vegas may be the only thing on your mind — until something jerks you out of your trance:

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Yes, it’s nice to get to your nice hotel and find that a whole slew of punctuation is missing from your hotel.

If bad grammar, bad spelling, or a lack of punctuation is enough to send you packing, check out a nearby budget hotel instead. Like the Days Inn.

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Well, it IS Las Vegas. I guess technically you could end up with a free wife in your hotel room…

Who am I kidding. I wouldn’t even make it to the Contl Breakfast.

At this point, I would leave my hotel room and just hope some random stranger I meet at the craps table lets me crash in his room.

Next up: trying some of Las Vegas’s most famous food. And if you’ve already blown your money at the slot machines, at the strip clubs, or at a special table at a club before you learn that bottle service actually costs $500 per bottle, you won’t be able to afford the treasures of Alize at the top of the Palms or SW Steakhouse at the Wynn. By that point, you’re probably past Tao at the Venetian or any of Wolfgang Puck’s restaurants dotting the Strip.

By this point, it’s time to head for the street food.

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NO. Please, no. I don’t want my PIE’S. I want my PIES. The former leaves me waiting, yearning for something that my pies have! WHAT DO MY PIES HAVE?!

By this point, you’ll be heading for a nervous breakdown. And it might be time to memorialize your epic trip to Las Vegas with a tattoo. I hear there’s a cool tattoo shop at the Palms. Or you could head to downtown Las Vegas.

You’re a wreck. You’ve seen so many Vegas grammar mistakes since the arrival of your flight that you haven’t been able to regain control of yourself.

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It’s get better? It has a get better?

No, it does not get better. This has officially been the Las Vegas trip from hell.

 

 

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