I was in Vegas over the weekend and stayed at Mandalay Bay. Fun place, not too crowded, good food and great spa (remind me to tell the story of the Laguna Beach guy who lives for cold plunge pools).
Every experience in Vegas begins with the ride in the elevator to get to your room. For a town that has more hotel rooms than any other city, one has to think that Vegas is also the only city in which an elevator is mandatory to get to your room.
For this reason, we always get two keys each at the front desk. I don't know about you, but my key invariably stops working at the worst possible time and the only way to get another key is to take the elevator down and back up.
The elevator. What an ingenious invention. It does exactly what it is intended to go: take people up and down without having to walk stairs. The problem is that the inventor Elisha Otis didn't take into accountability what we are supposed to do when we are in the elevator.
The Mandalay Bay elevators have a tiny TV on the right side. There is no sound. I watch people get in on the lobby level and the first thing they do is watch the TV. Billy Graham could be preaching but people would still be watching. A commercial for Fleet enemas could be playing but people would still be watching.
Our room is on the 14th floor. We have to stop on floors 4, 6, 7 and 8. The elevator door opens and closes slowly. People press the "close" button repeatedly (like that makes a difference). No one smiles. No one talks. No one looks at another person. The elevator stops at the 4th floor. A person in the back needs to get off so people move without being asked to move. The elevator starts moving back up. A commercial for an upcoming concert plays on the TV and perhaps gold coins were being given away due to the interest level.
We finally make it to our floor. I grab some stuff from the room and head to the spa on the ground level. After waiting a few minutes the elevator door opens. The elevator stops at yet more floors and more people pile in; people with suitcases, bags, briefcases and all of a sudden, the elevator is packed. No one is breathing. You certainly don't want to use your nose. The TV is the star once again and I'm doing yoga breathing to get through this. Finally after 6 stops, I'm at the bottom floor.
Then I realized I forget my spa key in the room. HELP!
Here is what I think: Hotels should offer private elevator service at a premium price. Now that would be one ride worth the price.
Happy Wednesday!
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