In search of a cheap last-minute flight to a casino destination west of the Rockies, I stumbled upon something wonderful this week. The cheapest flight available—shockingly cheaper than all of the others—involved a nine-hour layover in Las Vegas.
In the minds of the airline this was the worst way to travel. And it might well have been if the layover were anywhere else. But for me, an advantaged player too well-known to stay under the radar for very long in any major casino destination, nine hours in Vegas was just what the doctor ordered.
I rented a car for 17 dollars. I cashed in a fist full of comp offers for chips, cash, and rooms all over town (They keep rolling in despite my illustrious and oft-flyered track record. When will the various marketing departments get the memo that I have been deemed “Not Welcome?”)
I swung through a handful of casinos, prairie-dogging in and out of shoes. These were all of the same haunts I had been backed off from multiple times before, but on this visit I never stayed long enough to get caught.
With an hour left before my flight, I went back to my palatial “layover” suite where I caught a 20-minute nap and a shower, before heading back to the airport with an extra 12 grand in my pocket, ready to parachute into the next enemy territory.
Since the comp offers are always rolling in, and since Vegas can be a risky trip by oneself, not worth a lengthy stay or the diminishing comp offers alone, now I have the means to hit it hard and often—layovers!