To celebrate/mourn the end of the summer, I did what any old-fashioned, hard-drinking American girl would do: hopped a flight to Vegas for a weekend of pool parties, 52-oz. margaritas, slot machines, and food exploration. I know it’s important to look hot in Vegas, and part of looking hot is not stuffing your face with so much buffet food that you get all bloated and oily. That’s why I took it relatively easy until the final day of our trip, when I said “screw it” and headed down to the old end of the Strip to try out a diner I had read about and was desperate to experience for myself: the Peppermill, where everything is larger than life.
The Peppermill is equally lauded for its immense portions of epically greasy diner food and its gloriously tacky atmosphere. Upon entering the Pep, the hostess will probably say something like “Okay, for three? It’ll be about 20 minutes. But you’re welcome to wait in our lounge…?” Yes, yes, YES. You will wait in the magnificent Fireside Lounge!
It looks like Xanadu crashed into a jungle, and then disco balls covered the sky, then half of the wildlife in the jungle turned into flatscreen TVs that blare blurry 80s music video programming. How’s that for a mental picture? Can you imagine it? Well, here’s a taste:
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