The Neon Gutter crew takes a live stroll down Fremont Street, from the headwaters of the Plaza Hotel at Main Street past Binion’s, the Golden Nugget and all the way East, past the D, the El Cortez and on to the husk of the Western. Along they way, they reminisce of what used to be and used to happen along the fabled street, and they encounter surprise guests, panhandling locals, and the noise pollution that clutters downtownLas Vegas nowadays.
Looking down Fremont from the Plaza back when it was a real street you could drive on, puke on, and fall off the curb on.
The Plaza continues to evolve, but appeared like this in the 2010s, when the Las Vegas Club still sat across the street and before the zipline monstrosity down Fremont Street.
One evening we stumbled upon drunken Germans who invited us up to the Triple Crown Ballroom on the second floor of the Plaza to celebrate Mardi Gras. We met some of the friendliest, most fun, and drunkest people of our lives. Next time you think you’re having a wild time, just know it pales compared to German Mardi Gras.
The Golden Gate casino at night sometime in the 21st century. Once famous for its 99-cent cocktail and a good deli, it’s now not famous for not much except being old.
A Golden Gate security guard declares Neon Gutterite Ghizal the champion of one of our many shrimp cocktail eating contests.
As the Las Vegas Club’s fortunes waned, it tried a myriad of low-budget gimmicks to lure gamblers in, including an arcade claw machine where one could win a live lobster for the restaurant to prepare (or to take home as a pet). Gutterite Jerry is seen here trying his luck. Other failed draws at the struggling Club were an X-game exhibition in unused casino space and a massive display of balloon sculptures.
Matt says Hi from the past and from the Coin Castle, where he likely just got a really crappy free photo, and hassled by the patriotic hustlers out front.
No idea what happened, but Dan’s is emerging from the Golden Nugget in the 90s. If he looks like he just got away with something he shouldn’t have, it’s because he did.
Binion’s was once the home of the World Series of Poker, and this was the leader board in the poker room right after the 2003 main event.
Recently, Burt tried to enjoy some electronic craps at the sad contemporary Binion’s Casino while haunted by the ghosts of the World Series of Poker, laughter, wild craps games and some of the world’s best gambling.
The Jack of Clubs visits the Four Queens. Nah, actually that’s Phil dressed up as the jack. He’s not a real jack.
From the casino stage at Fitzgerald’s (now the D), Dan thrills some, but not all, gamblers with “Misty-Eyed Lady” and other accordion hits. That is, until security escorted him from the property.
The Gold Spike often saved money by skipping a few few letters on their signs. Who knows how much more they’d have to charge for a shrimP cocktail?
After a long day in the Neon Gutter, Phil ponders the meaning of life and when to split sevens from the balcony of a top-floor room at the Gold Spike.
The El Cortez at night sometime during the 21st century, clean and classic. Many of our nights were spent in the smoky confines of this casino, and many late mornings started in the rooms above it.
Burt approves of his vintage room at the El Cortez. The vintage rooms are one staircase above the craps table, and guests can fall asleep to the sweet sounds of the stickman calling prop bets, the slots jingling, and the drunks arguing.
After a long, long evening in the Neon Gutter, Phil directs Stevie and Ghizal hurry to dispose of something. The contents of the sack and the details of the events that night are still hazy and nobody ever talks about them.The Western Hotel and Casino with all-too-common guests arriving at the front doors.
