Area 52: UFO in Vegas

I’d finished my tour of duty, wandering through endless aisles of tech demonstrations at yet another Las Vegas convention. It was time to head home. I packed my bag, stuffed in some of the freebies I’d gathered up, and dropped the car at the airport. Settling back into my Southwest Airlines window seat on a full flight, I watched the distant mountains as the jet climbed. It was a clear day: I’d have a bird’s eye view of the Sierra Nevada.

The fellow next to me had documents out, some of which were architectural diagrams. We started to talk. He was consulting on the new Paris hotel, casino, resort — whatever. They had New York, New York, the Bellagio, the Rio: why not gay Paree? I shared my distaste for the whole fantasy world, concluding “The only thing this place doesn’t have is a UFO!” He laughed.

As we flew, I thought about this concept. Area 51 was somewhere around Las Vegas. UFO’s had been of public interest since the first sci-fi movies. Why not make a casino-hotel out of a crashed UFO? The strip was pretty full, but I’d seen some empty blocks off the main track. Ah well, not my gig. Leave Las Vegas to the professional swindlers. It was funny though; I told my new acquaintance of this idea.

“Could work. It is different.”

Wait; “it could work?” Maybe if I were in a different business, or had lots of corporate cash. “Well, maybe so,” I conceded. “But where would you even start?”

“Put together a proposal and pitch it!”

“To whom?” I asked. I wasn’t acquainted with any casino syndicates, hotel investors, mob bosses … .

“There are consultants to the owners, like me. But I just work on the buildings and decor. You need to talk with others who initiate proposals for them. Here; here’s the name of one.” He wrote down a name, handing it to me. “Why not?”

Why not, indeed? I was used to long shots, but this one was out of sight. Still, the idea intrigued me. People had to get bored of pirate shootouts in front of the Treasure Island and fountain fireworks at the Bellagio. Once you’ve been to Paris or New York, what else do you see? Why not Aliens?

The idea of a crash landing was engaging too, explaining why we would have found them — even generating a bit of pity or empathy. Now, throw in a lost Alien child … all the makings of a movie. Add callous Army officers chasing the poor stranded Aliens, a few light shows of phaser blasts — no scratch that; keep it peaceful.

Inside the ship could be lots of Alien costumes as in Star Wars, blue colored drinks, weird music, and fantastic slot machines! Oh well, they could figure all that out.

Back in the Bay Area, I put together a proposal and called the contact my friend had given me. I led by saying I worked for Itochu, a large Japanese trading company. This was true — although Itochu had nothing to do with it. Still, I got an appointment coinciding with the next conference in Vegas — InterOp in May.

Harry was a large man, in the image of an overweight Hollywood producer. He greeted me, pointed to a chair in front of his desk. He inquired about Itochu. I gave him a basic description but indicated my project was independent of Itochu at this time.

We talked about some of the projects he’d worked on. Hearing that I was staying at the Rio this trip, he commented. “The Rio is one of the only casinos that’s viable off the Strip. Any site has to have a enough visitors staying to create foot traffic through the casino. The Rio was less expensive to build than most. Those windows from floor to ceiling are expensive, but less than exterior and interior walls. They don’t have to charge as high a rate to make it, or have as many guests. Building cost is a huge key here.”

This worried me, as the building cost for a UFO would undoubtedly be more than that of a large rectangular box, glass sides or not. “I have something different to suggest: a fantasy that is characteristic to the Nevada desert, one that has spanned decades of attention in movies and books.” I handed him the pitch deck and we began. “Visitors will see this from the air when they arrive in Las Vegas: the unique shape of a crashed UFO, discernible by day and lit up by night.”

After the fifth slide, he interrupted me and asked quickly, “Is this about the future? I don’t think I can see this!”

I was a little stunned. He was picking up on the Sci-fi aspect as if he had a conflicting interest. “No, actually, it’s about the past,” I said in reference to the UFO sightings of the 50’s and 60’s.

“I can’t see this,” he concluded. “I’ve been consulting on a similar project for the Hyatt. This could present a conflict.”
“What’s the other project?” I asked, ready to counter.

“I can’t talk about it. But you can see it yourself.” He rose, indicating our meeting was over. Wow, that was quick! Having my ideas shot down was not unusual for me, but this was a new record.

Hopes dashed, I visited the Hyatt later in the afternoon. The StarTrek-like scene tapped into Sci-fi, including the “odd bar creatures” part. But this was a small corner of the Hyatt, not the central casino theme I was contemplating. Plus, mine was more “old school alien,” as if that were actually a genre. There could be room in the kaleidoscope of the Vegas Strip for Area 52. The problem wasn’t thematic; it was economic.

His description of the importance of a frugal hotel had been interesting to hear. The cost of a space ship would be far greater than building a rectangle with decor. Also, such an unusual structure couldn’t house the hotel guest numbers he was talking about. The Luxor was a pyramid — true to theme — but it had a very large number of rooms. I’d have to have some kind of adjunct hotel with the ship as an external centerpiece. And to be on the strip, it would have to be located someplace like the southern end, where airport car rentals and the like might be displaced. Even then, would it be close enough for the walk-ins strolling down the strip?

Well, it had been a fun idea: Area 52. I’d learned something about casinos and the hospitality business. I’d exercised my creativity. I’d demonstrated boldness and initiative. And my remuneration for same was zero. As my Southwest flight out of “Lost Wages” lifted up, up, and away, I had to wonder if my current job offered the same, unfulfilling result: fun concepts, opportunities to meet interesting people and learn more about business, but no big financial win.