My girlfriend got a summer job at Venetian, so I’ve spent a lot of time at the casino these past two months. I park on the garage’s 7th floor, take the elevator down to 3, and walk through the hallway that leads from the valet to the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf.
A couple weeks back, I saw something funny happen in that hallway:
A couple, holding hands tightly, was walking towards me. Suddenly, the guy, about 150 lbs heavier than his date, stopped dead in his tracks. The girl, not expecting the sudden halt, flew backwards, as if somebody had pulled a rug from beneath her feet.
The man had stopped to gawk. Not at a pretty girl, but at a Public House advertisement featuring a massive photo of the restaurant’s quail and waffles dish. Smothered in syrup and butter.
When the guy’s date realized what had happened, she tried to jerk him away from the poster, towards the elevator. Unsuccessfully. The guy was transfixed. A real life King of Queens scene, playing out before me.
The hallway is lined with advertisements, many of which feature photos of incredibly attractive women. But, having walked through this hallway a couple dozen times in the past two months, I can tell you this with authority: The men always stop for the quail & waffles.
What does this say about us?
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