
Las Vegas used to lie to you in a fun way.
It was a city built entirely on the agreement that both of you — you and it — were full of shit. You weren’t really going to win. It wasn’t really going to treat you fairly. But the mutual deception had style. There was theater to the transaction. You walked in knowing you’d probably lose, and Vegas handed you just enough illusion to make the loss feel worth it.
That agreement is gone. The illusion has been replaced with a spreadsheet, and the showgirls have been replaced with fees.









