While most of Los Angeles awaits the demolition of the Ambassador Hotel, I’m using up my tears for the Algiers Hotel in Las Vegas which I only just learned was demolished last September.
The Algiers was certainly not the nicest hotel in Vegas. Hell in terms of Las Vegas Strip culture, the Algiers was a scabby old drunk that still patronizes the same divey bar long after it’s been gentrified into hipsterville. No casino, no flashy show, no volcano – the Algiers was pure attitude that only comes from surviving for 50 years in the face of Steve Wynn and his ilk. I couldn’t quite think of ever staying there, but the bar in the Algiers was one of the great dive bars of Vegas. Dark, smoky, and with a slight hint of malfeasance, the Algiers’ bar was the motel’s entertainment: crabby drunks and a loud bartender that made the meanest drinks this side of a longshoreman’s dive.
Sigh… I wish I knew about the clearance sale. I would have driven out special to purchase one of the spectacularly ugly light fixtures.
aw fuck. fuck fuck fuck.