Imagine if you were blind. Try it. Close your eyes.
If you are still reading this, you can take this opportunity to laugh at those silly enough to think I meant close your eyes literally and are now sitting there awaiting some disembodied voice to lead them on a weird Jedi-like journey to a place far far away.
Our imaginary blind friend, call him Ray,has flown to our city for a convention and he and his companion guide dog Magellan stumble their way into to your store. Magellan is happy because today he got to ride in a car and an airplane and his owner is happy because you sell a hard to find snow globe and he wants to take one home as a souvenir for his daughter. He takes out his wallet to pay for the globe and hands you a $20. You give him change for a $10. The takes it and puts it back in his wallet and Magellan leads him and his booty out the door. He was just ripped off but how would he know? United States currency is all the same size, he can’t see the numbers (remember the eyes being closed at this point), and Magellan gets confused by higher math. He is a visitor to your town. Unless Magellan places a urine scented canine GPS waypoint at your door, you will never see him again. And you know for certain he will never see you either. It would be easy to do and why worry, he’ll be gone tomorrow.
In the past few months, I’ve spent about three times as many nights with the Sinners in Las Vegas than with the Saints back home in Utah. Being in this man made oasis of conspicuous electrical consumption for work as opposed to those who have slogged here eagerly hoping to partake in one, or several, of the hedonistic endeavors that are thrust upon them from the time they touchdown at the McCarran airport and casino I have a slightly different expectation for my experience. As a transient resident of this den of iniquity I see Las Vegas for the city of neighborhoods, parks, churches and normalcy that exists beyond the glitz, glow, glamour and glee of the “Strip” that is designed to separate a visitor from his money faster and with more efficiency than Mr. Oreck’s sucky machine removes dirt from the carpet in my hotel room.
Unfortunately I am not immune to the financial plundering that befalls the average tourist not just here, but everywhere. I am not much of a gambler and tend to be a homebody so the chance is slim that I will venture into an establishment to venture a bet on a game of chance. But I still stay in a hotel, rent a car, eat at restaurants and get lost quite frequently. And just like Ray my money is often pirated away in the form of taxes, fees and unscrupulous business practices designed to make sure what is brought to Vegas stays in Vegas.
Domestic and international tourists spend hundreds of billions of dollars every year. In Nevada alone in 2007, tourists spent nearly $60 billion dollars! That figure would probably balloon even higher if there was an accurate way of tracking the beer soaked singles stuffed in the garters of the surgically enhanced hostesses working in the clubs designed for visiting gentlemen.
I’ve no quarrel if a tourist wants to spend money willingly to feed a “one armed bandit” or keep dancer Bambi in the lifestyle to which she has grown accustomed but when the government decides that it deserves an extra share of the revenue simply because the one spending it is “not one of us” I call foul.
I feel safe in saying all politicians want two things: power and to be re-elected. Money affords them power so your typical government official will spend the majority of his day thinking of ways to separate as much of the citizenry from its. Now the more Uncle Taker tries to get from his constituency, the greater gamble he takes that these poor voters will remove him from his office. And that means want number two goes unsatisfied. So what is he to do? That’s right, screw the guy who doesn’t vote for me! The tourist.
Tourists come to town with wallets greased more than the Fonz’s DA on Happy Days and question little when it is time to pay the piper. So politicians feel it is ok to tax the things that are used by out-of-towners more frequently than by locals. Things like hotel rooms, rental cars and restaurants. Specific purchases are sometimes subject to additional fees and taxes as well. Buy a lift ticket to Mount Washington Ski area and you will pay an additional 6% for road a road levy. The typical rental car invoice, in addition to the daily rental fee and regular sales tax, will have things like: 10% airport tax, $3 a day CFCC levy, 5.9% state excise tax, 4% franchise fee tax, etc, etc. The invoice for my rental car last week was nearly 35% higher once the tourist related fees were applied.
Revenue generated from tourist taxes can be enormous and, since it is some other sucker paying the tab through their purchase of souvenir suckers, they tend to be overwhelmingly approved when put up for a public vote. Unless you are renting a car to take your secretary to dinner and a quickie in your home town, you’ll never worry about them right?
About now some of you are thinking I am naïve in my subtle opposition to these types of taxes. No. I get it. Tourists are free to choose where they go to spend their money. It is, like spending my money on the 1:16,000,000 chance of buying the winning lottery ticket, a voluntary tax. But I can’t help but view this geographic redistribution of wealth as classless envy.
Our willingness to sheer the sheeple who come to our town to enjoy our hospitality through higher taxes and fees is not only inhospitable but it enables those in our state and local governments to build their power base. Government growth is government growth. If you want parks, concert halls and fountains build them but be prepared to pay for them. The designers of these taxes often state the money will be used to generate more tourism and pay for the roads and infrastructure required to handle more tourists. If you believe that I have a bridge to sell you that you can use to get people from the airport to the convention center.
Government taking riles me but when I see independent business taking advantage of the tourist I just get pissed. I understand offering a loyal customer a discount or other service. But don’t screw somebody just because you can. Get in a taxi cab at McCarran and the first two questions asked are “Are you from here?” and “Do you know where you are going?” Answer no to either and your taxi ride will be $10 to $15 higher. There’s an optional third question about a possible side trip to see Bambi at the gentleman’s club and provide here with a few of your singles but that’s not our topic today. I hear the same story every week when I talk to the attendees at my training classes. It makes me want to scream.
This morning I paid $2.05 for gas at a place I knew service the local population. A whopping two blocks later I saw gas listed at $2.35. Oh yeah, this place was directly across the street from the rental car return center. You know the place the tourists are likely to stop because they know nowhere else.
I don’t know about Karma but I do hope that like the roulette wheels spinning all over Nevada, what goes around comes around. Those who are so short sighted that they willingly take advantage of someone who doesn’t know any better is just as bad as the thief who steals Magellan’s lunch money as they short change a blind guy.
I hope Magellan pees on your leg.
S2
