We spent the evening looking down hallways. It had looked like an oasis of experiences, from out there in the desert. But the casino floors still bled you dry, sucking up coinage and moving earned value from pockets into coffers, an old and familiar game of luck shaded into padded cages. Something of the desert crept into the architecture of perpetual twilight, drying up the walls. There were no drinking fountains at the casinos. Which seemed cruel, like every other park at the human zoo.