Dear Las Vegas Tourism Team

Can we talk?

I know you are all awesome at your jobs.  I mean, “What Happens in Vegas…” is a true classic, spawning a thousand imitators but I think you missed something.  This is an example of not getting to know your potential customer well enough.

For years you tried to entice me with dancing girls, great shows, gambling and a glittering strip – more neon than any other place on earth — even the attempt at family entertainment (roller coasters, Ferris wheels) fell flat.  You never quite got me.  I missed the gambling gene that pervades my family.  Neon light makes me look even paler and more washed out.

In just a few days, nay even hours, in your fair city, I could have told you what would make me visit.  Visit and spend money.  Perhaps uproot the whole household.  Buy a house.  Move my business.

Perfect hair.  I’m here for the Up Summit, the largest grassroots gathering of startup Community Leaders from across the planet and I have had three days of perfect shining-not-a-frizz-in-sight hair. (OK, and met some of the most creative, wonderful people in the entrepreneurial world.)

I scoffed at 100 degrees “but it’s a dry heat.”  Until I experienced it myself.  Smooth frizz-free ringlets.  No nimbus cloud of fuzz and embarrassment.  No half-crazed poodle-look. I’ve spent my life and the GNP of a small country on products to tame and smooth the mass on top of my head.  (Sorry, John Frieda, you came the closest but even you can’t hold a candle to my new love.)  I even tried the flat iron to remove the curl all together.  Couldn’t replicate my hairdresser and who has the time to return daily for a professional blow-out?  Who knew I just had to move to Vegas?  NO ONE.

So Las Vegas Tourism Board…what do you have to say for yourselves?  Just one “Spin & Win…and perfect hair” and your economy is second to none.  “What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas…and no frizz.”  No airline seat left unclaimed.  Never an empty hotel room, or seat at the black jack table.

Maybe none of you is a member of the Curly Girl Sisterhood.  Or maybe you have lived here all your life and never knew about humidity-related hair trauma.  If you had spent the time thoroughly exploring your (huge) potential target market, you would have known.

Call me.

Bobbie

P.S.  The Zappos Shoedown was a nice bonus.  I got the Tall One (the 6′ 5″ teenaged wonder) a nice pair of size 14 high tops.