I was staying at one of the nicest hotel & casinos on the strip. Late one evening, as I was walking thru the casino to the elevators to return to my room, I encountered a rather young and buxom blonde that was in distress. She was rather inebriated. Sobbing, she was trying to tell a maintenance worker that all she wanted to do was return to her room but she didn’t know her room number. Of course the maintenance worker had no idea what to do and the magnetic key cards don’t have the room number on them for security reasons; that is why it's very important for you to remember what room you're staying in. The maintenance worker that was trying to help her spoke very little English and they were getting nowhere; so I walked over and advised her to go to the front desk where they could get her room number for her. She stood there and stared at me like I was also speaking a foreign language; she was so drunk I don't think she understood. I tried again but then gave up when I got a blank face as a response. Seeing that floorshow reminds me why I'm so grateful I don't drink anymore.