October 3, Las Vegas. I booked us a room at the Tropicana because of the promise of a large pool where we could have continued to practice our crawl. But the Tropicana is a bust. Even the twenty-two-story facade shows widespread signs of decay. The pool is only open from 11-5. There is no room service, although it is indicated in the description. In general, everything except the casino is closed at ten in the evening. There is a bar in the casino, but of all the drinks on the menu, the bartender can only offer a pina colada with mango, frozen in large plastic cups, seven dollars for an extra shot. No coffee in our de-luxe room. We booked Vegas, and we get the usual: the disappointment of a gambler who has made nothing but losses.