For my first review I will take you to a place of wonder, a place of fantasy, a place a lot like Las Vegas but not quite and about an hour away: Stateline. Traveling down the epic wasteland that is the I-15 through southern Utah after a day of packing up all of your belongings after a day of traveling from the east coast and arriving home at 2am and then waking up at 7am and finishing packing up all your belongings and then moving all your Sister in Law’s belongings and then being spit up by a baby 3 times and saying sad goodbyes but being too tired to cry and then driving through the wasteland there is only one thing that a girl could want: romance. Should we stop in St. George? No. Should we stop in Vegas? No again. Now I am one to hold out for the best life has to offer…so Primm it is! Here is all the glamour of Vegas but on a price that would make any girl swoon. And when you have a husband whose caffeine intake has him thinking we could get all the way to San Diego, it’s time to stop. We settled on the fine establishment of Whiskey Pete’s.
I like to think of Whiskey Pete as the rascally little brother/cousin (same dif in these parts, right?) of Buffalo Bill, the namesake of the hotel across the freeway. When you arrive at Whiskey Pete’s at 2am, which is the BEST time to arrive, you are greeted by a large and spacious parking lot. The 200 ft. dancing figure of Pete himself jigs his dandy leg at you and winks his neon smile as you are whisked into the lobby. Cigarette smoke and the jingling of slot machines make you feel like you’ve arrived in Vegas, but what I really like about Pete’s place is the details: a sweeping stained glass gallery overhead tell the wild tales of debauchery Whiskey Pete and his Saloon girl had. One scene includes a one of those jugs with three X’s on it. Now if that won’t make your heart a flutter, the suspicious looking stains at every other doorway in the hall leading to your room should. Oh the wild times this place must have seen!
Inside your room you would be lucky to be greeted, like we were, to a epileptic inducing light that is either a broken fixture, or the establishment’s business strategy to “keep the party going” all. night. long. Once the party in the corridor is over, you can gaze longingly at the western inspired 1970’s décor. That combination of class is hard to come by this side of the Mississippi. And after a hot day, a shower with soap that feels like gritted plastic should send you right off to sleep. Four stars Whiskey Pete’s, four stars.
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