So I went to a party last night with one of my co-workers, Jesse. It was the Wireless Games Old Timers party at the Ghost Bar, which is one of the spots in the Palm resort in Vegas. Since it was one of the inaugural parties of the CTIA conference, we had high hopes (did I say we were in Vegas?). Hope gave way to disappointment, as we fought our way through the numerous desperate looking, blazer-clad swords gathered (sheep-like) in our futile attempt to get to the bar.
Ordinarily, I wouldn’t really care about the disproportionate male to female ratio. But last night I took notice because the place was literally packed with dudes (not Brand Dudes) drinks in hand, staring drone-like at their mobile phones (expecting a call?) or wistfully at a woman (any woman) that crossed their line of vision (and there were very few of them).
Actually, there were ominous portents of the night to come early on. First, there was the name of the party: Wireless Games Old Timers. Really? Old Timers? Would they be serving Ensure?
Then, there was the undisclosed cover charge of $10 that greeted us at the door. Now $10 isn’t a lot of money (unless you’re in a recession), but c’mon! If you make me register online and don’t disclose that there’s a cover at the door…
Next were the three, five-foot, pre-pubescent guys trying to convince the bouncer that they were of age. Their unbridled glee upon getting past the gatekeepers should have sent my Spidey senses a-tingling.
Then there were the two Iowan lasses in the elevator, trying to figure out how to get into the pools of high end hotels because they were (by their own admission) staying in a ‘dive’ off-the-strip without a pool. “But hey, it’s free, so WTF!?” (and that’s a direct quote)
Needless to say, the signs were all around, and I shouldn’t have been surprised to be wading into a pool of testosterone minutes later.
My hope is that the parties tomorrow night, on the actual first day of the conference, will be better than last night. If not, there’s always pay-per-view.