He likes to gamble. She doesn't. Can they both find happiness in Las Vegas?

When Michael and Sarah were invited to a wedding in Las Vegas, they decided to make a long weekend of it. With so much to do in Vegas these days, everyone's idea of how to have fun is a little different. Here are two sides to three days on the town.

He said: We were on the edge of Las Vegas, skirting the shadows of the Strip, when the fever began to take hold. I had visions of sevens and blackjacks. The bone-rattle of dice ricocheted around in my head. I had cash in my pocket and the urge to do what I love to do in Vegas: gamble.

It was a familiar feeling. I get it every time I visit Las Vegas, which I've done, on average, about once a year for the past 15 years. During that time, I've seen the rise of faux Europe in the form of the Bellagio, the Monte Carlo, the Venetian, and Paris Las Vegas hotels. And I've seen the influx of celebrity chefs, such as Wolfgang Puck and Charlie Palmer, and entertainers not named Wayne, Siegfried, or Roy.

While I appreciate the new diversity, it is, to me, only a sideshow. Eating one of Puck's leek, thyme, wild mushroom, and goat cheese pizzas has yet to elicit a rush equal to the one I get when I plant my elbows and a stack of chips on the green felt.

She said: I have an aversion to courting Lady Luck with my hard-earned dollars. Giving money away to strangers while other strangers watch my every move is not my idea of fun. Add to this my faulty poker face (I honestly cannot tell a lie) and my dislike of crowds, and it's no wonder I wasn't looking forward to a weekend in Sin City. But I'd heard that Las Vegas had changed a lot since its all-gambling-all-the-time early days, so I decided I'd test this new Vegas by trying some non-gaming diversions.

He said: Soon after checking in at THEhotel, the Mandalay Bay Resort & Casino's all-suite boutique hotel, which opened in 2003, I took my bankroll to the hotel's casino. Like the gaming areas at the MGM Grand, the Bellagio, and other hotels of recent vintage, the one at the Mandalay Bay features high ceilings, garish carpeting, and the approximate square footage of a runway at LAX.

It was a perfect place to start. (Having a wide selection of tables and dealers from which to choose makes it easier to find one with a lucky vibe.) On my first foray, I found a $10 blackjack game that felt right. I took my customary seat at third base — the last spot before the dealer — and soon dropped $50, a healthy chunk of my gambling budget. Ouch.

She said: While Mike headed for the casinos, I went to THEhotel's Bathhouse spa. I selected an aromatherapy massage primarily for its intriguing name, "Scents-of-You," and I wondered: Would this massage actually induce me to smell in some new way? I learned later that "Scents-of-You" meant the spa staff (actually a computer software program) determined which aromas to use based on a questionnaire pertaining to my personality, state of mind, and the "state of being" I wanted to achieve.

Skeptical, I leaned back against the sauna's warm steps and watched silver stones steam in the corner, the scent of redwoods bringing on Norwegian-ski-lodge fantasies. In the treatment room, the massage therapist rubbed me with aromatic oils (thanks to my answers, my mixture included grapefruit, lavender, sweet birch, and verbena), and sweet, fresh fragrances filled the air. I was beginning to think I could get used to this "new" Vegas.

He said: The aroma of stale beer, sweaty men, and cigarette smoke engulfed me as I moved on to the poker room. I had signed up for a no-limit Texas Hold 'Em game. Buoyed by what seems like around-the-clock coverage on the Travel Channel, it's the most popular poker game in town. In the middle of a Saturday afternoon, all 10 tables were full; the wait for a seat was an hour.

To pass the time, I mindlessly slipped some quarters into the nearby video-poker machines, hoping that when I got my seat I might find some "fish" — poker parlance for suckers. Finally, a space opened up. At the very least, I thought as I sat down, I could fold my cards a lot, have a few drinks, and soak up the camaraderie at the table.

She said: As I glided out in post-spa bliss, I saw Mike at a poker table I could view only from about 20 feet away. He was all business and probably wouldn't have noticed if I'd picked up a tray and started serving drinks.

He said: I didn't see Sarah because I was busy reeling in my fish. With some patience, a few quality cards, and one well-timed bluff — and almost three hours at the table — I recouped my blackjack losses and cashed in another $200.

She said: Relaxed and ready for shopping, I headed for the Bellagio. As I ambled through the Via Bellagio shopping corridor, it occurred to me that only in Vegas can people dressed in denim shorts and tank tops wander into Hermès, Chanel, or Giorgio Armani and not seem out of place. With this in mind, I wandered into a few stores myself, happily playing the game, "I'm really rich and could buy anything here, if I wanted to."

He said: I pocketed my winnings and planned a dinner with Sarah and some friends. On the way to meet up, I went to the Las Vegas Hilton to pay tribute to one of the city's greatest ambassadors, Elvis Presley. The King lived on the 30th floor of the then-named International Hotel and performed in the showroom between 1969 and 1976; a bronze statue gifted in 1978 by Elvis's wife, Priscilla, and his father, Vernon, stands in the lobby.

She said: A potent memory of my depressed checking account forced me out of the pricey stores and toward the Bellagio Gallery of Fine Art's Monet exhibit. It was striking to see Claude Monet's masterworks — the exhibit included paintings spanning five decades of the artist's career — then walk out of the gallery into a giant Italian-inspired gilded world with slot machines and roulette tables.

He said: I'd made dinner reservations for Piero's, an Italian restaurant just up the road from the Hilton. To me, it epitomizes classic Vegas. It's been in business since 1982, which is virtually Paleolithic in Vegas. Piero's also lends the term "family-style restaurant" an entirely new meaning. Maybe I've seen too many Martin Scorsese movies, but surrounded by bejeweled, dark-haired men digging into plates of pasta and red sauce, I easily imagined we were sitting among made men. Scorsese actually filmed scenes from his 1995 movie Casino in the restaurant's interior. The film was based on the true story of the mob's last days in Las Vegas.

She said: The food at Piero's was great, but for our second night out, I wanted a little less Goodfellas, a little more Ocean's Eleven — the one with George Clooney, not Frank Sinatra. We decided on the MGM Grand's Fiamma Trattoria. Its eclectic menu and modern design — the split-level dining room has a glass-enclosed fireplace and a swooping ceiling — were enough to bring us into the 21st century. Then — and I considered this a true feat — I dragged Mike to the ABBA-inspired musical, Mamma Mia!, at the Mandalay Bay. Like old Vegas, the show has its share of brashness, and plenty of gold and silver polyester, but it also has the production caliber of a modern Broadway show. And I can't be certain . . .

He said: Yes, she can't be certain. She said: . . . but I'd swear I heard Mike singing along to a kinetic and, yes, very new version of "Dancing Queen," a moment that might have made Sinatra cringe, but for me, was definitely worth the price of admission.

Loving Las Vegas

THEhotel at Mandalay Bay: Angular lamps, barware reminiscent of the 1950s, and Sinatra tunes wafting from the lounge give this all-suite boutique hotel an aura of classic Vegas cool. The 14,000-square-foot Bathhouse spa takes up the second and third floors. Room rates start at $159. (877) 632-7800; www.mandalaybay.com.

Piero's: Loyal diners, including current Las Vegas mayor Oscar Goodman, swear by Freddie Glusman's restaurant for its dimly lit dining room, discreet staff, and long-standing menu. The specialty is osso buco. Entrées: about $30. (702) 369-2305; www.pieroscuisine.com.

Fiamma Trattoria: This Vegas branch of Michael White's SoHo restaurant opened in August 2003, and it has eclectic, delicious entrées to match its modern-yet-homey design. Standouts include the raviolini: pasta pouches filled with braised short ribs in a wine glaze with piave cheese. Entrées: $15–$42. (702) 891-3110; www.mgmgrand.com.

— S.S. and M.Y.

You are reading the May/June 2005 issue of Westways. Some information contained in this publication is time-sensitive, and the terms of some offers (cruise or vacation packages, for example) or services (provisions for roadside assistance, for example) might have been superseded by subsequent information and might no longer apply.