Solo-friendly Margaritaville Las Vegas

There are those who are of the opinion that it’s somehow very, very wrong to dine at chain restaurants when you travel to other cities.  Why would you want to go all that way and then eat at a restaurant you could eat at back home?  Well, Vermont doesn’t have a lot of the chains that are available in cities I visit, so I don’t feel the least bit guilty eating at one when I travel. For instance, my first meal in Vegas during my recent trip was at Margaritaville in the Flamingo hotel.

It was around midnight (3 am my time!), and I was beyond hungry.  I was looking for a place where I could get both food and entertainment to keep me awake.  I knew Margaritaville had live music at night, so I headed through the Flamingo casino toward the front of the hotel, past the the trademark Margaritaville adirondack chairs, painted in bright green, blue and yellow, looking like they should be on somebody’s lawn, not the dark hallway of a Vegas casino.   The music pulsed louder as I approached the bar, and I was half afraid that the restaurant had already stopped serving food, but no, the host said, I could still get dinner.  (Or “second dinner,” as the case may be, since I’d already had one dinner at the Cleveland airport several hours before.)  He gestured toward the darkened bar and restaurant and told me I could sit anywhere.  (Anywhere I could find a seat, that is….)

Generally,when a restaurant is busy, I like to sit at the bar and save the tables for groups.  But it was standing room only at the bar, so I seated myself at an empty table in the bar area with a clear view of the stage.  No one, not the bar staff or other customers, gave me the hairy eyeball, despite the fact that Margaritaville was jammin’ that night and I was taking up a table for four all by myself.  Nor was I rushed through my meal. Now that’s a solo-friendly restaurant.

The cover band played rock music and did a passable job at it, and in between sets they piped in top 40 hits as well as the obligatory Michael Jackson songs.  What was really entertaining was watching the crowd dancing up near the stage, jumping up and down in a Bacchanalian frenzy as if they were at a U2 concert or something. It was, after all, the beginning of a holiday weekend in Vegas.  Things were just getting started.  The vibe here definitely served its purpose in waking me up, and it was a great way to kick off my vacation.

My only criticism of this restaurant was that it was incredibly DARK.  Not so dark that I couldn’t see some of the beachy, tropical decor, like the prop plane hanging overhead, the tables built into the frames of sport fishing boats, and the giant neon green margarita blender by the bar.  But it was dark enough that I couldn’t read the menu or the bill.  Seriously.  I had to order a Cheeseburger in Paradise and a Landshark Lager from memory.  I had no idea how much anything was going to cost or if I was signing my name in the right place when the bill came.  I thought it was just me (I’m nightblind) until I saw a guy at another table holding out his cigarette lighter to help a woman read the menu.  I like atmospheric dim lighting in a restaurant or bar as much as the next person.  But when it’s so dark your customers can’t see the menu or their bill, you’ve gone too far.  At least hand out some flashlights or put some candles on the table.

It took a really long time for them to bring me my burger (apparently, there was a miscommunication in the kitchen).  I didn’t say a word about it, because I was enjoying my beer and the music, but my waiter was super nice.  He told me he asked the manager if they could do something for me to make up for the wait, and they wound up buying my beer for me. It was just a few bucks, but a really nice gesture–the kind of thing that builds good will.  As for the food, the burger was spectacular–cooked to order and juicy–and I loved the skinny fries that came with a side of ranch dressing for dipping. It wasn’t the healthiest meal in the world, but God, was it good.

This was my second experience eating at a Margaritaville (the first time was in New Orleans), and I don’t care if it’s a chain.  It’s got really good food, a fun atmosphere, AND it’s solo-friendly.  What more could a solo traveler ask for?  You can bet I’ll be back–only next time, I’ll bring a flashlight.