As I have work shortly, this shall be brief, but informational.
Today we shall be discussing the fine art of Dodging Tourist-Photo Ops.
Anyone who has spent even a few hours traversing Las Vegas Boulevard knows that at any given moment, the following scenario may occur:
The low hum of conversation that surrounded you just seconds before is gone. All is eerily quiet. Your gaze leaves the prostitute trading cards strewn about the pavement, only to discover yourself inside an empty patch of sidewalk flanked on all sides by a semi-circle of expectant tourists. For a second or two you wonder if all those years of laughing whenever babies fall on their butts has finally caught up. Then you turn to your side and see a 20-something Japanese girl holding up a peace sign in front of the statue of Zeus; then you turn to the other side to observe her much older-looking male companion staring at you. He has a camera that's larger than your head, with enough flash bulbs and electronic do-dadery to make you wonder if said camera will not suddenly embark on a spree of destruction and science-fiction-campy-goodness. You momentarily find it helpful that you do not in fact speak Japanese.
A small part of you dies, and you hurriedly scuttle away.
Ok, I feel better now.
So anyway, The Fine Art of Dodging Tourist Photo-Ops, as I have learned it: ignore them. Blaze right on through. They can take another picture, and the statue/fountain/Michael Jackson impersonator isn't going anywhere.
Today we shall be discussing the fine art of Dodging Tourist-Photo Ops.
Anyone who has spent even a few hours traversing Las Vegas Boulevard knows that at any given moment, the following scenario may occur:
The low hum of conversation that surrounded you just seconds before is gone. All is eerily quiet. Your gaze leaves the prostitute trading cards strewn about the pavement, only to discover yourself inside an empty patch of sidewalk flanked on all sides by a semi-circle of expectant tourists. For a second or two you wonder if all those years of laughing whenever babies fall on their butts has finally caught up. Then you turn to your side and see a 20-something Japanese girl holding up a peace sign in front of the statue of Zeus; then you turn to the other side to observe her much older-looking male companion staring at you. He has a camera that's larger than your head, with enough flash bulbs and electronic do-dadery to make you wonder if said camera will not suddenly embark on a spree of destruction and science-fiction-campy-goodness. You momentarily find it helpful that you do not in fact speak Japanese.
A small part of you dies, and you hurriedly scuttle away.
Ok, I feel better now.
So anyway, The Fine Art of Dodging Tourist Photo-Ops, as I have learned it: ignore them. Blaze right on through. They can take another picture, and the statue/fountain/Michael Jackson impersonator isn't going anywhere.