I’ve heard rumors of the desolate wasteland that used to be the Las Vegas strip. It has been described to me as eerie how the neon lights and sounds are still in full force, despite nobody being around to enjoy them. How it’s creepy at night because the only ones wandering the floors are the lost and the homeless.
I had to check it out for myself, so I drove there on my first day in Las Vegas.
The strip itself presents a cohesive story of safety and precaution if you pay attention to all of the signage, which, at least throughout all of the Caesars properties, uses consistent typography and colors.
“…except when actively enjoying yourself” 
This is accompanied by some reassuring extra touches. At every casino entrance, you’ll find a mask dispenser and hand sanitizer. A helpful casino bouncer stands next to it to ensure that you’re wearing a mask.
Many of the casino’s restaurants converted to take-out or room delivery only. Some of the most famous ones, like Gordon Ramsay’s Hell’s Kitchen, went reservation-only, with very limited seating. (The next available reservation was 2 months away.) The food courts that didn’t shut down have big cones or drawn x’s on every other table, enforcing a safe distance between unmasked parties.
Many of the big nightly shows for which Vegas is famous are still around, but they’ve both dramatically limited the number of available seats, and every single one I tried to buy had established a 2-ticket minimum, a showstopper for someone like me trying to have a good time by myself.
With all this in mind, I was ready to capture stunning photography of the desolate, post-apocalyptic strip. Well, here it is.
Perhaps it’s because of spring break. Maybe it was March Madness. Whatever it is, it was easy to forget we’re in a pandemic. No one, indoors or outdoors, even made an attempt to stay 6 feet away from each other. Masks were mostly worn loosely under the nose. The trick is to always have a drink in your hand, which was already the prime strategy for walking the strip long before it became a valid exemption for wearing a mask.
In some ways, this was refreshing. Living in San Francisco during the majority of the pandemic instilled in me a fear of leaving my own apartment, and I missed seeing people. While I don’t think I’d feel comfortable walking around maskless nursing a yard of margarita all day, I was reminded that being around people is energizing, and maybe SF should’ve encouraged more outdoor activities rather than fully shutting down for so long.
In other ways, it was scary. It was too much, too soon. I had only left California a week before, and I’m not yet vaccinated. So, I didn’t stay very long on the strip. And I decided it wasn’t worth going back. But before I left, I had to see how Vegas was now handling my favorite table game: craps.
As a quick aside, craps is the best casino game for three reasons. First, it has the lowest house odds: 1.41% in the come-out phase, and 0% in the point phase. Second, it’s comparatively engaging. You don’t touch the playing cards in blackjack, and you don’t spin the ball in roulette, but in craps you get to pick up the dice and throw them across the table. Lastly, and most importantly, it’s collaborative. When you roll, everyone at the table bets money that you’re going to win. They encourage you when you’re about to roll. And when you win big, they win big, so they clap and cheer you on.
During COVID, I couldn’t imagine a group of people crowded around a table, shoulder to shoulder, blasting each other with particles and sharing germy dice. I assumed craps would just not be possible, so I had to see for myself if it still existed, and take a picture if it did. What I ended up capturing was the most post-apocalyptic thing I’ve ever seen.
This is when I decided it was time to go home.
