Las Vegas has thousands of bars, yet sometimes it's impossible to find a place to have a drink. Or, should I say, find a place you want to have a drink. There you are, in some big casino to attend a show or a party or meet a friend who's passing through town. Naturally, you want to grab a cocktail before, after or (what the hell) during, yet there's no place you want to go. Oh sure, all these establishments have an array of ultralounges and Euro-lounges and lounge acts, offering their $12 martinis, Barbie-bot waitresses and Earth, Wind & Fire covers—but a simple place to relax, take a load off and, well, get loaded? That's a gimmick they don't seem to have heard of.
Except at Mandalay Bay. The vast complex—which I've always referred to as the White Man's Burden Casino for its Indian/Caribbean/random British colonial outpost theme—features two remarkably pleasant bars: the centrally located and always-bustling Island Lounge and the more secluded and chilled-out lounge in The Hotel. The former has always been a favorite: Its wide archways offer a view of slot machine/sports book/House of Blues activity, but provide the illusion of being slightly removed from it all. The bar is 360 degrees, thus you can nearly always find a spot, and the abundant tables offer comfy chairs to larger groups. Evening entertainment is ostensibly provided by a series of bands working out in the corner—however, from canned smooth jazz to rodeo-season country purveyed by a wannabe Shania Lame, I've never heard one that didn't suck.
The people-watching will keep you amused, whether mocking a platoon of men in "Vegas, baby" wraparound sunglasses, speculating on whether those ladies at the sorority reunion planned on dressing identically (as well as which thinks she's Carrie and which swears she's Charlotte), or the classic Sin City pastime of wondering whether the miniskirt chatting up those conventioneers is looking for a free drink or a night's work. Mingle with the masses and you can find yourself debating the comparative merits of The Old Man and the Sea vs. The Sun Also Rises with the bartender or spending 12 straight hours swilling whiskey with a cluster of coke-addled Irish newlyweds.
As you can imagine, the action is at the lobby bar at The Hotel (or, as they like to call it, TheHotel). A corner of Mandalay Bay transformed into the best possible facsimile of one of those painfully over-styled New York boutique hotels, its vibe continues to the lounge: all dark wood, overstuffed leather chairs, towering floral arrangements and men in custom-made button-downs drinking scotch. All well and good if that's what you want, but the real reason to hang out in the bar (or would that be TheBar?) is the pool tables, the only ones on the Strip, as far as I know. And they're awfully nice ones: spotless beige felt; those little leather latticework pockets in the corners and only three bucks to play for as long as your heart desires, or until you've blown the rest of your cash on cocktails. My only complaints are that the tables are a few inches too close to the walls, which screws up certain shots, and while flat-screen televisions are a fine accessory in any establishment, no one needs to see Naomi Campbell on Cribs, much less hear her. The lobby bar (TheLobbyBar maybe?) also features excellent free bar snacks: cheese-flavored, wafer-stick things served in shiny, quickly emptied silver bowls. Pool and cheesy poofs may not be high-roller perks, but it is how the rest of us roll.
Lissa Townsend Rodgers learned to make a martini at age 6. E-mail her at
[email protected].