Las Vegas, Day II: Son of a Pitch

I’m still rambling on about our recent trip to Las Vegas. Which lasted for about 40 hours.  And which did not involve hot Vegas tales of strip clubs and burlesque shows. If you want some of that excitement, go to Hilly’s blog. You’ll even see a makeshift tattoo on a stripper’s ass — far more exciting than anything you’ll see here.

Flashback: Memorial Day Weekend, 1999:

socKs and I were celebrating a belated honeymoon. We started in San Francisco and proceeded to drive down to L.A., then to Vegas (staying in a skanky hotel in Bakersfield on the way), and then on up to Fresno and Santa Cruz and back to the Bay area.  We hit Las Vegas — both of us for the first time — on Memorial Day itself, and we were planning to stay for a few days after. Which was great because everyone was leaving after the holiday weekend.

We were walking down the strip and found a small booth near one of the hotels advertising cheap show tickets. We didn’t have any evening plans, so we inquired.  We were quickly asked if we were married. When we said yes, the woman behind the counter exclaimed that it was our lucky day! We could get show tickets for free! And to one of the longest running not-so-family friendly shows on the strip!

Alas, there was a catch. In order to get the tickets, we needed to catch a shuttle from our hotel the next morning which would bring is to a high-rise condo right in the middle of the strip for a sales presentation which would take a few hours. It was your classic timeshare situation — first, a pumped up warm-up guy. Then, a short film featuring has-been actor Robert Culp. And then a representative took the two of us to an office personally and tried her hardest to make a sale. When we presented all of our excuses and told her repeatedly that we weren’t interested and that we just wanted our tickets, she proceeded to drop us very quickly, allowing us to fend for ourselves to collect our tickets and find out how to get out of that high-rise building.

The show, by the way, was Les Folies Beregère at the Tropicana — possibly one of the cheesiest shows I’ve ever seen on stage. (And I’ve seen Oklahoma! in Hebrew.) It was lots of showgirls dancing in showgirl outfits pretty far away. Oh — and boobs. Some of these women had likely been with the production for a long time, because my perverted mind remembers quite a bit of sagginess.  It was hosted by a sexually ambiguous guy with a mediocre toupee, and it featured the comedy stylings of Argentine brothers Mario and Daniel. I just visited their website and … well, this made me crack up. I know — I’m evil…

All in all — we got what we paid for. And we knew we wouldn’t fall for this ever again. Ever. Again.

Present Day:

On our way to our rooms at Bally’s Hotel and Casino we were engaged in conversation by an official looking guy who was wearing a name badge. We mentioned our ten-year anniversary — and he whisked us over to someone else official looking at an official looking desk in the hotel. Her name badge associated her with Wyndham Resorts.  But she looked like just another hotel employee.

Thirty seconds into her spiel we looked at each other and knew exactly what would happen:  she wanted to offer us free show tickets! But the ante was upped: she gave us a choice of shows. Hell – we could even get George Wallace tickets! (She explained to us who George Wallace was: “a very funny comedian whose show is clean.” She made sure to emphasize that part. We must have looked like the fucking Osmonds.) But we already knew our answer: We had show tickets for the next night. Already paid for.  We would have to smile and turn her down.

But then she attempted to entice us with gift certificates to restaurants on the strip. Over $100 worth. We hesitated a bit, but we still turned that down. I mean, we’re not the type that comes to Las Vegas for the food. We weren’t interested in spending $125 on a dinner for two.  We declined.

And then she offered us $100 in casino chips.

Look — I know that $100 isn’t much money anymore. And that we’d have to sit through a presentation and spend some of our precious few hours in Vegas doing something we didn’t want to do. But still — we could do this early in the morning. If we slept in and missed it, so be it. We would have to put down a fully refundable deposit of forty bucks, but, again, we could get that back. Might as well keep our options open, right?

Due to the time change, we were both up by about 6:30 anyway. So we went downstairs, hoping to get into the earliest possible sales pitch so we could get it over with. We had originally been scheduled for a group presentation at 9:30 at Harrah’s, but we got into the 8:30 instead. It wasn’t a group presentation, but what difference would it make?

The shuttle brought us — ourselves and two other couples — to Harrah’s Hotel and Casino right down the strip. The driver instructed us to go up to the second floor and find the Wyndham office — right across from the Toby Keith Restaurant.  This in itself was likely a bad sign.  I mean, huge pictures of Toby Keith everywhere. I’m sure I brushed against him a few times on my way in. You know — just to keep him on his toes. (I don’t particularly like Mr. Keith after seeing Shut Up and Sing, the Dixie Chicks documentary.)

We were brought into a waiting room where we needed to fill out paperwork. We had already discussed what information we would provide and what we would decline to answer.  One of the sheets was an additional sweepstakes form you could fill out for the chance to win a trip to Hawaii! And — as a bonus — if you sold  our five of your friends and provided their names and phone numbers, you could get a free Las Vegas hat! And for fifteen names? A Las Vegas keychain!  We didn’t really hate anyone that much, so we just smiled and told the receptionist that we wouldn’t be filling that out.

She looked at us as if we were insane. Why give up the chance to get a brand-spankin’ new Las Vegas hat?  We had a plan if she was going to get difficult — and that plan was to get up and leave. She didn’t want that, so she let it slide.

We were introduced to an ethusiastic, charged up guy named Ron. He reminded me of a retired baseball player — which, in fact, was exactly what he had done before working for Wyndham. (Minor league.) Right from the start he tried to make as many connections with us as possible. We were from DC? He used to live in DC!  We’re Jewish? He has only the utmost respect for Jewish people! We have a son? He has two sons!

We got into the pitch a few minutes later — in a large, cafeteria type room. Other sales associates were sitting across from couples, trying desperately to sell them this magical product. The room was brightly lit. People sounded excited. Ron was very excited. He introduced us to the floor manager when he came by. He introduced us to another associate who was from our area of Virginia. (Kind of.)

I still didn’t know exactly what he wanted to sell us.

Turns out it was this: instead of a traditional time-share, Wyndham is selling a “deed” with a number of “points” attached to it.  The points are redeemable for hotel and resort stays at their hundreds of properties worldwide.  A set allowance of points is granted every year forever. The point-values for properties never goes up. The cost? A one time fee (which would require financing) plus a monthly maintenance fee which would rise about 1.5% every year.

He took us on a tour of their property in Las Vegas, right off the Strip. Really beautiful. We saw some apartments which had four bedrooms in them.  And this was just one of the hundreds (thousands?) of properties they had!  That being said, i still wasn’t getting a straight answer about how much this would cost.

We returned to our table in the cafeteria area. We were getting tired and had already overstayed the two hours we were told the pitch would be.  I was starting to get a bit short with Ron. He was a nice guy and all — but this wasn’t personal. I wanted him to make an offer so I could figure out if it was worth it (I assured him I would keep an open mind).

From: http://flickr.com/photos/jasoncscs/

Here’s what they were trying to sell us on: Vacation for 10-15 days with them per year. We’d get the appropriate number of points for the hotel stays at their resorts on the most part.  Cost: $200,000. We could finance through them. Oh — and an additional $60 a month for life — which would eventually go up.  And did I mention closing costs?

We simply don’t vacation that much.  And when we go out of town? We stay with family and friends. We don’t need four-star accommodations. And we certainly don’t need another mortgage in this market. And considering we’re also paying tuition?  The answer was no.  It’s simply not for us.  I smiled and let him know that it simply wasn’t our lifestyle. No hard feelings.

I started getting visibly pissed off when he brought over someone else and started questioning the way we weren’t prioritizing our vacations well enough.  It’s when I told him specifically how much I anticipated spending on vacations during a regular year. If they could offer something which would even come close to that amount, I would consider it. Otherwise? We’re done.

We were done.

An exit interviewer came to our table to survey us about our experiences. We just wanted to leave, but I decided to be cordial and answer his questions.  Until he got to one which became a continuation of the sales pitch. I interrupted him and told him that we were done.  He kept talking and I talked over him.  We got out of there with our deposit back. And coupons for $100 of free chips down at the casino.  socKs immediately redeemed the coupons at the cashier. And immediately took it in cash. We were done. True, the morning was gone, but we were a C-Note ahead. We celebrated and had lunch at Chipotle.

The scary thing was seeing this room full of couples — I may be overgeneralizing here, but I’m pretty certain that many of them don’t make as much money as we do. (Not that we’re even close to rolling in it!) Yet every so often we would hear a glass clinking in this large cafeteria. And as the room became quiet, we heard a sales manager congratulating the newest member of the Wyndham family who decided to sign up. And they’re going to vacation in beautiful… Tucson!  And then lots of applause by everyone in the room.  I completely understand what draws people to say yes in such an environment. I observed the psychological tricks they were playing to get that sale.  I just feel bad for these folks who, most likely, don’t know what they’ve gotten into.

$100 in exchange for about two hours of our vacation. And, I guess, our souls.  Was it worth it?