Editrix Abby  

A Broad View #1

Vegas Review

Ah, the Consumer Electronics Show, the second biggest convention in Las Vegas. Cell phone battery salesmen, car stereo aficionados, DVD dealers and every other technogeek from around the globe converge on Sin City for four days of technological exhibitionism. And to see tits. For the past five years I've been making my pilgrimage out to Vegas for the adult entertainment industry's segment of the CES show, and after visiting a booth or two and conducting a minimal amount of business at the "straight" part of the show, you can find the thousands of participants in line at the Sands' "porno" hall, suffering a three-hour wait just to see porn stars' boobies. Don't these guys see tits at home? Or are the surgically enhanced breasts of porn stars somehow more mesmerizing than their wives' tits could ever be? Who knows. Having a few breasts myself, I'm amazed at their ability to entrance. I suppose I shouldn't complain, as man's fascination with breasts has, without a doubt, put plenty of groceries in my fridge. But you can't blame my mind for being boggled.

Once inside the cavernous convention hall, beneath the glaring fluorescents, the logos of every porn company beckon. The adult industry comes out in force for this event and any dealmaking to be done seems facilitated by the excitement of the hordes. For a fleeting moment--or at least the duration of the show--you get to feel as though porn is a legitimate business.

When you go to CES, the convention itself is secondary to the networking opportunities, and the prime networking opportunities are the parties. This year I took advantage of the free hors d'oeuvres at Wicked Picture's cocktail hour on my way to the Adam & Eve party, where I mingled with what could be affectionately referred to as the old guard. The infamous and unstoppable Nina Hartley and her infamous and unstoppable derriere were there, along with numerous other senior statesmen and women of smut.

Friday night began with the New Machine Media party at The Bellagio in a suite that overlooked the Dancing Waters. Then it was on to the Hard Rock for the Gallery magazine gig, where their suite afforded a stunning view of the Strip and all its glittering landmarks. From there, I motored to Ra, the nightclub at The Luxor, for the big fetish party. Being a fetish aficionado myself, I was really looking forward to this event, a collaboration between Fetish, Skin Two and Taboo magazines. One look at the monstrously long line and it was immediately evident that this was not the exclusive soiree I'd anticipated. After I managed to smooth talk my way past the security strongmen, it took about five seconds to size up the situation: this party sucked. I managed to chat up Ellen Thompson, the purported hostess of the bash, and slugged down a beverage or two before retiring to the Cleopatra Bar to play video poker. I heard a bunch of frat guys beat up a "fetish boy," and then saw the whole lot of them, including the bloodied PVC-attired gentleman, being escorted into the manager's office. I also heard that a semi-famous fetish model's drink was drugged by a drooling fan and she had to be carried out. Guess it's not a good idea to mix fetish folks with the general public.

The AVN Awards were Saturday night. They promised to be "Shorter, Funner, Better." Well, they were undeniably shorter. I arrived at what would ordinarily have been cocktail hour just in time to see the lavish cheese and crackers being whisked away and found my seat seconds before the show began. And the show? They managed to make it shorter by completely eliminating the entertainment. After our lovely hostess, porn star Julie Ashton, had distributed all the statues for Best Blowjob Scene, Best Gang Bang, etc. in just slightly over two hours, it was time for the after party. But again, what had been billed as an exclusive event was open to the general public. Someone really has to teach those AVN people how to throw a party! Especially for $185!

Since the possibilities of getting a drink at the hotel bar looked slim, we wound up in a friend's suite with Jeanna Fine, her adorable husband Jim, Hustler's entertainment editor Rich Pursel, writer/director David Aaron Clark and others, raiding the courtesy bar and partying till 5 am. Now THAT was the best party I've ever been to after an awards show! Next year, I'm gonna rent a suite and throw my own party.

[Written Jan. 1999, I think!]