Keeping big-shot gamblers from riff-raff

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LAS VEGAS - The casinos in this desert city are trying to save the whales - "whales" being their term for the most elite high rollers.

The whales are about 200 of the world's wealthiest gamblers, and they are courted in Las Vegas with lavish suites, personal butlers, chefs and private pools.

As if the red carpet isn't rolled out enough, the casinos now want to let the big shots bet in private VIP salons, where they will not have to mingle with tourists and their plastic change buckets.

A bill approved by the Legislature and awaiting Gov. Kenny Guinn's signature would create such private gambling salons.

Many casinos already have gambling rooms for high-end players, but they are required by law to be open to the public.

"Times have changed," says Alan Feldman, spokesman for MGM Mirage, the largest hotel-casino owner in Las Vegas. "We have to show as much revenue as possible. We're trying to find as much as we can."

And that means offering whales what they want. Casinos in such destinations as Macau, Monaco and Australia offer private gambling rooms, and Las Vegas casinos say they need such salons to compete.

Under the legislation, casinos would decide which customers are wealthy enough to gamble in private.

Who are these high rollers? Casinos say they are large-business owners from around the world who have credit lines of millions of dollars. How they do at the gaming tables can determine whether the casino wins or loses that day.

Because they bet so much money, whales get the royal treatment: free suites that spread over entire hotel floors, shopping sprees in the casino's shops, a private jet ready to whisk them anywhere they want.

Inside the high-limit London Club of the Aladdin in Las Vegas, dealers wear evening gowns and vested suits.

The setting is much different than the jangling Love Me Legal Tender slots tournament in another part of the casino. High rollers can check in, dine and depart without ever stepping into the main casino.

"They get all the freebies and we pay for everything," says Baltimore tourist Connie Miller, clutching a bucket of quarters inside the Aladdin.

Miller, like most gamblers, will have to be content with those free key chains and the sweet sound of clanking coins.

"It's called peon," she says, ranking herself in the gambling world.