About 45 minutes into the drive, our planned bar-hopping excursion to Lake Las Vegas hardly seems worth the trouble. Freeway construction has slowed our journey to the distant resort, and I can tell that my wing-woman is having trouble acclimating to my car—the only un-air-conditioned vehicle in Nevada. But as if to reward us for our toil and epic gas expenses, the lake welcomes us with a spectacular fireworks display, and from the roof of the parking garage, we have just about the best seat in the house. It’s not a cheap demonstration, either. The booming finale sets off every car alarm in the complex.
We head down to MonteLago Village, where, amid the many upscale boutiques, there is an eclectic trio of drinking establishments. The first we encounter is Sunset & Vines, which houses more than 500 varieties of wine. I’m no wine expert, but that has to be most of them. They even carry an Australian wine called Woop Woop, for crying out loud. Even the light fixtures on the walls are housed within wine bottles. While my friend samples a few different flavors, I go straight for a glass of chardonnay, which comes with all the corresponding emasculating mockery (I drink chardonnay, ergo I have a vagina). Upstairs, there’s a small lounge presided over by three monkey figurines named Dane, Jason and Ed, striking the traditional see-no-evil, hear-no-evil, speak-no-evil poses. Given the comfy couches and the romantic lake view, my guess is that those monkeys are choosing to ignore the frisky behavior that takes place up here.
As we proceed to the next bar, my friend, who’s just returned from Europe, comments on the faux cobblestone path and its very deliberate attempt to channel the coziness of a quaint Italian village. And it’s true—there’s something about the layout and its careful lighting that feel less like Tuscany than a possible Tuscany-land addition at Disney’s latest theme park. But since I’ve never been to Europe, a slice of Disneyland suits me just fine. And since all of Lake Las Vegas is an entirely manmade oasis, I’m willing to let a hint of artificiality slide.
Tuscany quickly gives way to Ireland as we arrive at the Auld Dubliner, a traditional Irish pub that appears to cater especially to dog people. The outdoor patio hosts an assortment of canines and their chatty owners, and two pooches tethered near the entrance force me to reflexively fall to my knees and lavish them with affections. Inside, the bar sports all of the polished wood and imported Irish knickknacks you’d expect. On Thursdays through Sundays, there’s live music as well, which is satisfyingly loud inside while leaving the outdoor tables conveniently conversation-friendly.
After partaking in some of that outdoor conversation and getting our fill of dog-petting, we set out for our final stop, La Havana Cigar Bar. Normally, I’d consider the mixed scents of assorted tobaccos a pleasure, but tonight, I’ve refrained from smoking per my friend’s health-conscious request.
As we enter, she asks me for a cigarette.
“You can’t ask me for a cigarette,” I protest. “Then all my earlier restraint and suffering would be pointless!”
Despite the additional beckoning of the enormous ash trays on every table, I hold firm, and we amuse ourselves watching the lounge singer belt out songs like “It’s a Wonderful World,” while the cougars among the bar’s older crowd approximate some dirty dancing with him.
When we finally leave in the early a.m. hours, MonteLago Village is all but deserted, which is probably its best feature. The remote location, while a strain on the gas card, refreshingly keeps the crowd to a minimum. And when a place offers you diverse but equally fancy bars, a delightful atmosphere and your very own fireworks display, why would you want to share? In fact, never mind anything you’ve just read. I’m pretty sure it was all a mirage. I’m not keeping anything to myself, I swear ...
Sunset & Vines
MonteLago Village
382-7900
The Auld Dubliner
MonteLago Village
564-4766
La Havana Cigar Bar
MonteLago Village
871-2828