Hard Rock Hotel is way off the strip, across the street from a B-list (or maybe C-list) hotel (at which I stayed).
I walked through it with a friend. The gaming floor / main room looks a lot like the scene in Pulp Fiction.
I had the impression that it was a young, out-of-it crowd, all standing around waiting for something to happen. They play up the movie connection, with prominent signs posted around the gaming area informing anyone who might care that by entering the hotel of your own free will you are giving legal permission to be filmed for entertainment purposes and should therefore consider being elsewhere if you are not prepared to be in Quentin Tarantino's next movie.
The crowd seemed surly to me.
Cabanas in the back, completely deserted at 8:00 on a Wednesday night. No one in the pool. Everything dark. Maybe it wasn't our night.
Pointless rock and roll artifacts scattered about. Not a soul looking at them.
All in all the least friendly place I checked out during my three glorious days in Sin City.
Oh yeah, I loved that sign at the airport. You know, the one that says: Good Bye. For Now.
(steely)