The Peppermill Restaurant and Fireside Lounge on the north end of the Las Vegas Strip contains four fake trees, wraparound neon lights, and an exclusive closed-door cocktail lounge where the bartender wears a bowtie and the suede swivel chairs sit on a sunken floor. Jake wants me to understand what this city has been, not just what it has become. Halfway through our conversation, he excuses himself for a second and checks his phone–a business proposition involving 400 pairs of women's slippers has been completed as we eat. On to the next hustle.