Fear and Shrugging in Las Vegas

Well, we were heading down the coast of California when we missed an exit and wound up in this backwater desert watering hole they call Las Vegas.

Fun fact I learned: always check the prices of flights to/from Las Vegas if you’re travelling to/from somewhere in the area. The city pays the airlines to keep the prices down. Obviously, tourism is a huge part of the economy here.

Speaking of local economies, the busker/street performer/pan-handler/con-man industry is booming. There were dozens of people set up or walking down the crowded walkways with some really clever schemes. A monk (or at least a bald Asian dressed as a monk) came up to use and handed us a little token with some Buddhist wisdom, not saying a word. Really played the stereotype of silent holy man from the East perpetuated in our media. Then, he points to a book with a picture of a monastery under construction. Do I have any info about the temple he has a photo of? Nope! Remember, he never said a word! Under the picture, he has a section where people sign, a section where they write what they prayed for, and the amount they donated. Amazing how everyone donated an amount between $10-20!

When he saw we were hesitant, he smoothly pulled off a beaded bracelet, something you can get in bulk for less than a penny a piece but look nice, and gave one to us both. It was so smooth and natural with his silent act that someone who was not aware would not even notice the moment where he paused and judged if we were going to give him anything.

That whole gig is brilliant. It's oddly pushy but makes people compliantly listen/observe while messing with a person’s judgment and value systems so much.

Fishing is the act of tossing out a line or a net in the right place with the intent of baiting something into biting.

Others were not so clever, but they did well enough anyways. The first performer we saw was a woman in a Minnie Mouse costume. Awen was in the middle of taking pictures, so naturally I ran up to her and excitedly posed. Afterwards, the girl in the Minnie costume pointed to a dollar in her gloved palm. I didn’t have anything to give her, so she muttered something behind her mask.

I think that girl in the Minnie Costume put a gypsy curse on me, because that night I went with my LED balls and did a test run of busking here. I left it a control; nothing new was added. I simply juggled the best I did with a sign saying “Blind PLZ help,” which was my best earning sign in Syracuse.

Nada. Zilch. Not a dime. Which confirmed I need to directly interact with people to plant the idea of donating.

But what to do? All these schemes and acts seem so well prepared, rehearsed, and with good props. I can't just throw a plastic bag on and yell about how the CIA is brainwashing me to become a Messiah Candidate...

A side note; people had really strong reactions about my shirt. A man who was not a cop came up to us after dark, starting a conversation with my beard and long hair. He said he was rainbow tribe and all that jazz, and then told me he has weed, coke, molly, etc, then pulled out a bag of weed from the Walgreens Pharmacy across the street and then a small bag of baking soda. I smiled and said I was good, and then opened my arms to hug my fellow rainbow tribe member. He shuffled away; unsure of how to handle actually connecting with someone.

Stay tuned for more posts about our trip to Las Vegas!