Don't Go in My Cousin Vinny Sports Bar, Las Vegas

It has been a surreal week here in Wheaton-land, Las Vegas. Two items I real are worth discussing here. 1.) If you are visiting Las Vegas or are a Vegas resident, don't go in the bar on Sahara called My Cousin Vinny Sports Bar. I was 86'd from this establishment this week, but by the time they 86'd me, I would never have come back anyway. In all seriousness I've considered discussing what happened with a professional therapist. I walked into the bar, which I'd been to a number of times over the last three years. I order a Diet Coke. The bartender told me she wouldn't serve me because, this I still can't process, I had a backpack on. I was confused of course because that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard a human being say, and asked if she wanted to check my bag. She said "I don't know what's in your backpack". I offered to unzip the backpack and display the contents, the waitress still refused to serve me. I maybe could have taken this with more grace, but i slammed the door open on the way out. I turned around, and- not at all to my surprise- the bartender was screaming at me not to come back. " I shouted back "no problem". I guess what she couldn't fathom was that after that interchange I would never want to come back to that bar. It is very insulting to be refused services in a bar in this part of Las Vegas, the people bars usually refuse service to are homeless people, meth users, hookers, and the like. Having a backpack is not a reason to be suspicious of an individual-few things could be more normal. A small handgun or drugs could be just as easily concealed under a coat or jacket. The other thing about that is that this particular bar has a gimmick of hiring only female bartenders and they had a thing of having the bartenders dress in bikinis. Personally, I did find the bartenders they hired to be attractive women particularly. However, because they have felt that they can take advantage of me financially because I'm a single man, and somehow also they feel they can speak to me and treat me whatever way they feel fit, I have no problem with never stepping in their doors again and would discourage others to do so. I think the kind of confrontation described here might be what defines that woman's existence. I have no time for bizarre "sorry sir we cannot serve you" nonsense, no one really does. 2.) The Gary Glitter on Twitter page turned out to be a fake! Someone was doing a behavioral experiment and showing how easy it is for pedophiles to get on Twitter. That's really too bad. The world is full of very sick people and Gary Glitter is one of them, but I'd have liked to see him do a comeback tour. He's really a fabulous musician.