Everyone in Las Vegas is exhausted, trying too hard, or planning their escape.

Jill and I went to a restaurant in the Arts District that locals recommend. The food was superb. We disappointed our server, who came to the table looking tired and ready to start an argument. You don’t want to hear the specials? Fine. I’ll go away and let you figure it out. She couldn’t wait for us to leave. We’re still puzzling over what we did to trigger her. I won’t name the place because I have no beef with them (the pasta was seriously good), but someone needed a nap.

The bachelor party bros grimly pounding beers before one of them walks the aisle? They didn’t seem to be having fun. The bachelorette party in the aforementioned weirdly inhospitable restaurant, whose water guzzling and dazed looks wouldn’t be out of place at a Molly-fueled rave? Nope, that didn’t look fun, either. Vegas demands fun, but has a gold-plated, severely limited way of delivering it.

We rode the Highroller Ferris wheel, because we’re on a global quest to check the box on as many of tall Ferris wheels as possible. We were in the blissfully empty Happy Hour car — just us, the bartender, and 30 minutes of free drinks. We learned that we were on the second tallest Ferris wheel in the world (we would have to go to Dubai for the tallest, but no thanks), the first 15 minutes of the 30-minute journey is the best, that we can drink Margaritas at the rate of one every ten minutes, and that the bartender can’t wait to get the hell out of Las Vegas, so he can live on his ranch with no people around him — just him and his guns.

If you must go to Vegas, here’s my only recommendation: Have dinner at Best Friend. Roy Choi’s Korean-meets-LA-meets-Vegas bodega/restaurant in the Park MGM is worth seeking out. Skip reservations and snag a table or stool in the bar. The decor tops the casinos for visual overload. And the bartender was not exhausted, trying too hard, or eager to get out of there. He was, like the entire experience, friendly and chill. And the food (garlic chicken for Jill, pork belly hot pot for me) and cocktails were topnotch. I’m not saying I would go back to Vegas just to eat there, but almost.

*Before you say, But Vegas is really fun!, read the post title. It’s an overreaction, though I stand by it. Your mileage may vary.