Settling down is easy. You meet someone. You text a guy in a van to meet you on a bridge (or wherever), and when it pulls up an hour later, two khaki-shorted reverends pop out with a detachable backseat altar. Just like a fairy tale.
There’s a new duplex penthouse suite at MGM Grand. It’s got art, a bar, two flat-screens and a massive, open-air living room pouring out into an 800-square-foot patio overlooking the dueling skylines of Las Vegas and New York—well, the roller coaster version.
The best part about staying home from the Olympics to rest your javelin shoulder: watching all 302 events by the pool, with a plate of bangers and mash in your lap, courtesy of Mandarin’s Brit-centric eat-a-thon. Remember to wait 30 minutes after whiskey bread before swimming.
Well-cut shrubbery. Finely choreographed fountain-spewing. Things called “Hyde.” Clearly, this is a pretty London-y place to watch the Olympics. To counter, you’ll order off a patriotic drinks menu—red-white-and-blue-layered tequila cocktails, martinis with gold flakes. You always knew your devotion to day-drinking would result in gold.
At this point, your digestive system can handle anything (years of undisciplined lobster intake have trained it well). Still, better flag down the city’s first tableside amaro cart—herbal liqueurs that act as natural digestives—just to be safe.
