When I find the Gambling Museum and Store nestled inside of Neonopolis I wasn't sure what I would discover but I expected that it would be nothing like the high-end shops of Caesars Palace, the Bellagio, and the Wynn. The store has an old smell to it, much like the defunct New Frontier casino. I discover gambling dice and chips from old casinos, numerous panorama photos of the city, bucket after bucket of old prize giveaways from places like Harrah's and the Aladdin, random photos of Vegas celebrities whose visages are there just because, and loads of toys and games like mini roulette wheels and plastic slot machines that thwart the player because they only spit out plastic coins. A gentleman greets me and asks if he can help me find something. I realize, at that moment, that I have no idea what I am looking for, but perhaps for some solace amidst the heaviness of Vegas' postmodernist present, I look to the past. I immediately ask for any Vegas postcards, and he pulls out a large paper box containing hundreds of images of Vegas casinos, past and present, each denoted by a flimsy cardboard divider: Sands, MGM Grand, Castaways. The system ordering the postcards is similar to a Linnaean biological taxonomy, with every imaginable casino--some with themes, some not--making an appearance between the dividers. The whole system resembles an order like the one that I have created for my Las Vegas photos on the laptop computer, but with cardboard dividers replacing the electronic folders on my desktop. In fact, the place is more museal than consumer, but that thought escapes me as I look for something in the box: what would end up being Jacques Lacan’s objet petite a, Alfred Hitchcock’s "MacGuffin," the death drive or thing that causes me to change my being, or as Slavoj Zizek writes, that "lack, the remainder of the real that sets in motion the symbolic movement of interpretation." Unfortunately, I have no idea for what I search, and as I flip through the postcards of the past, the situation becomes more aesthetic and less ethnographic in the sense that I would find the pieces that would complete this study.