A Time Share in Vegas Anyone?

Sometimes your time is worth a lot. Sometimes your time is worth diddly. While we have known the former, the later is definitely where we are now. And it was obvious here in Vegas.

We are staying in Vegas because we got a great deal on a room at the Excalibur Hotel. You know, the Knight-themed hotel next to the more luxurious Luxor and Mandalay Bay? 23 bucks a night. Half the cost of an RV park and we will more than double our hang out space, plus a full size bathroom. How could anyone say no? We are here for three nights in between Joshua Tree National Park and the Grand Canyon. We have been to over 15 national parks and monuments, 23 states, lots of friends and family – it is time to show the kids the seedy underbelly of America.

Right now I am questioning our thinking on that one.

So far we have introduced them to the gambling culture, smoke-filled casino floors, Breakfast of Champions Las Vegas-style (when the man walked past us at 7:30 am with a beer in both hands), one-armed bandits, video arcades, cheap buffets, The Mob, and sexism in a variety of ways from female escort services to scantily dressed women. If you haven’t been to Vegas lately, the strip (for those who decide to walk) is chock-a-block with groups of what appear to be newly arrived immigrants from south of the border, dressed in neon yellow shirts and matching hats all emblazoned with the same motto: Girls to your door in 20 minutes. They also hand out the matching business cards with the number to call.

In the 13 years since Evan and I had last been here, the free Pirate Show in front of Treasure Island has gone from being very Disney-esque to pole dancing, g-string wearing pirates. Thirteen years ago there was a battle between the British man o’ war and the pirate ship. Now it’s the ship of Sirens (the aforementioned scantily clad women) vs. the Pirates. To add misogynistic insult to injury, when the pirates decide to fire their canons at the Sirens (how else could the shows directors showcase all the pyrotechnic power designed for the original show), the pirates decide to bring the Sirens to submission by “attacking their closets, where it will hurt the most”. I apologized to Josh for taking him to this x-rated show. In a good natured way he replied, “This will be a good story to tell my friends -- Then there was the time my parents took me to see naked ladies in Vegas…”

Back to the story….

Evan drops the kids and me in front of the Excalibur so we can go check-in while he deals with parking the Big Pig in the back parking lot. We walk in the front doors, Josh and I with a rolling bag each and computers in our back packs, Simon is carrying two bags one filled with toiletries and the other with the mandatory stuffed animals. In order to check-in you need to take the long stinky walk through the casino. The coolest part about the Excalibur is the outside because you can pretend it is a castle. Inside it is a smoke-filled, darkly-lit, loud casino filled with sad, overweight people from all over the world blankly looking at electronic gambling machines as they keep pouring their quarters in, in hopes of what? Capturing the American dream, perhaps.

We make our way along the beer-stained carpet following the overhead signs to Registration. Before we make it there we are stopped by a smiling woman who asks how long we are here for and are we planning on seeing a show. Not for $70 a person we aren’t. Well, what about for $50 for the 4 of you to see The Tournament of Kings (produced by Peter Jackson, the New Zealander who also did Lord of the Rings)? Now you are talking. What is the catch? A TIME SHARE PRESENTATION!

Take me back…Minneapolis 1984. My first job out of college, well, actually my second. My first job was doing exterior painting for Low Cost Student Painters until a wind storm on a third floor ladder and I had a mishap with a bucket of stain. Second job – I called people out of the phone book for Quadna Mountain Vacation Resort in beautiful Hill City, Minnesota. “Mrs. Svensgaard? You the winner of a 5 piece set of luggage. All you have to do is go to a presentation for Quadna Mountain and the luggage is all yours. Free of charge!” I would say in my cheeriest voice. The fact it was called Quadna MOUNTAIN in one of the flattest states in the union should have been a warning.

Las Vegas 2010. Time share have changed a little in the ensuing 26 years. No longer are perky 23 year-olds calling people out of the phone book from basements for $5 an hour. They are now accosting families as they walk into Vegas hotels and offering cheap show tickets. The Grandview is a huge time share multiplex about 2 miles past the end of the strip. All we needed to do was attend the two- to three-hour presentation and fork over $50 cash now and the tickets would be ours. Dinner and theater for $12.50 each. The catch is both Evan and I have to attend. 6 hours of our combined time. In the old days when we use to think in billable hours, that time was worth a lot. Now we see our time as an opportunity to save money. We sign up.

We meet the bus at 9:30. We meet our assigned sales man Rodney at 10:15 am. The pitch starts. Wow. He is good. He tells us his story of growing up with a young single mother and his worst day of school every year was the first day when all the kids would stand up and talk about where they went on their summer vacations. Who knew so many kids from Hot Springs, Arkansas had Hawaiian vacations or went to Disneyland? But not Rodney and his sister. They got to know their backyard inside and out. Selling timeshares appears to be about appealing to people’s need to ensure that they never have bad vacations again (and make their kids love them for it). Bottom line: a two week time share in Vegas for $39,999. No thanks.

Then we met Rick, his manager He went through the numbers with us (and offered us some better deals). Bottom line: Rick started at $30,000 for two weeks (but not Christmas or New Years when they claim a lot of people want to be in Vegas) of time share with 4 bonus weeks thrown in. Rick ends at $15,000 for one week. No thanks, we are here for the tickets.

Then we are sent to the Gift Desk (for our tickets) and met with Robin. She is from Hawaii and gave us some tips for when we are there in a few weeks. She wasn’t really the Ticket Woman. She tried for a third time to sell to us. Bottom line: Every third year for $600. No thanks; Tickets please.

Then we met with Dora. She gave us the tickets.

Back to the hotel room by 1 pm with tickets in hand.

The show was great. The boys wanted us to sit through another presentation to see it again the following night.

No thanks. Some things you just won’t do. Even for your kids.