On the South Strip
Who owns it?
Visitors find themselves on a lush tropical island populated
by palm trees and video poker machines.
the Trop seems to be the headquarters for middle-aged Beanie
Baby enthusiasts. The few young people I saw were accompanied
by middle aged Beanie Baby enthusiasts.
I wish I could tell you that the cocktail waitresses had to dress
up as hula girls, but I didn't see a single waitress the whole
time I was here!
Carpet and Other Decor
The facade of the casino is an assortment of beach chalets in
Hawaiian shirt colors.
The decor of "Island of Las Vegas" features lots
of pink and aqua and a plethora of potted palms. A nice touch
is the tiki-esque gecko perched atop pillars in the gaming area.
Occasionally, the visitor stumbles upon a light fixture evoking
the "Solid Gold" era. And, of course, every surface
is mirrored, which leads me to believe that vanity is considered
a virtue in the tropics. In the gaming areas, the red carpet
emblazoned with gold seashells seemed disappointingly restrained.
Pastel walls and mirrors lead to the restrooms, which have
a bird of paradise motif on the mirrors. I was only in the restrooms
a few moments, and I started to feel like I was sitting inside
a scoop of sherbet.
The music of choice is hits from the 1970's, mostly disco.
The Trop's coffee shop is called Calypso's. There's also an "Island
Buffet". I don't know what this buffet serves, but I would
hope that the lineup includes lots of luscious tropical fruit.
The one restaurant that is really trying is "Savanna",
which serves carioca chicken, jerked pork chops, and seafood-
tropical cuisine for meat and potatoes folks.
It felt like summer at the Equator with all of the "White
Hot Aces", "Hot Dollars", and "Hot Quarters".
There's also a game called "Island Gods Progressive Slots",
but regrettably, it doesn't seem to involve ritual human sacrifice.
"Island Winners" receive a lei, along with their slot
jackpots. Some booths offer Beanie Babies as prizes. What the
hell kind of hardened gambler is going to go for a floppy plush
bunny or squirrel?
"Best of Folies Bergere" showcases performers who are
so uncomfortable in the tropical heat they are compelled to wear
very few clothes. They also host Rick Thomas the Animal Trainer
and His Two Very Sleepy Tigers. I hear that they're thinking
of replacing the tigers with Beanie Babies, though.
Wings of the hotel go by Love Boat-esque monikers of "Lanai
Rooms" and "Acapulco Rooms". The gift shop sells
such resort necessities as T-shirts and caps with macaws on them,
coffee mugs with macaws on them, and stuffed macaws with macaws
on them. Just like everywhere nowadays, the Tropicana has its
own spa. If Gilligan and Mary Ann were to tie the knot, the Polynesian-style
Island Wedding Chapel would be their number one choice.
Did it work?
The Tropicana doesn't limit itself to a particular region of
the tropics; they dabble equally in Polynesian, African, Asian,
and Central American motifs. After all, it's "The Island
of Las Vegas", so they can do whatever they want. I will
admit that I enjoyed strolling the grounds, though.
This place needs some tropical heat. Ditch the Beanie Babies
and import some tiki torches and tribal drums.