Here. We. Go. Again.

Last night at "The Beauty of Magic" premiere at Planet Ho, I once again inquired about a hearing-assistive device. As usual, the ticket-taker had no idea what I was talking about. Some sort of supervisor was brought over who, of course, informed me that it's "really very loud" in there.

You'll recall I've vented about this before. Usually, the predictability of that response makes me laugh. This time, I snapped.

"You're really going to stand there and tell a hearing-impaired person what's loud?" I snarled.

He apologized and then went somewhere mysterious to get a headset for me. He took my driver's license as collateral, which is customary. When I asked him how someone would know these things were available, he told me that you would normally ask for it at the box office. (At such special events, they hand out tickets at tables set up near the theater entrance, so we bypass the box office.) I went to look later and there's no signage at the box office informing people of the availability of these devices.

Not surprisingly, the headset didn't work. I really didn't need it because there wasn't much talking save for some painfully unwitty repartee between Hans Klok and momentary co-star Pamela Anderson that I kind of wish I couldn't hear.

Really, I asked to test the system. And to see if they worked.

But it gets better! When the show was over, I went as instructed to the mysterious door in the theater lobby where I was told to knock and turn in the worthless device in order to get my license back. Nobody answered. So I asked a worker in the lobby, who radioed someone. About 10 minutes later, I was approached by a man who told me that my license was in the Planet Ho Lost-and-Found at the security desk across the casino.

I went. And I had to sign a book to pick up my license. And, just for kicks since I knew he'd have no idea what I was talking about, I asked the guard at the L&F desk what I ought to do with the hearing device. He shrugged.

I walked back to the theater and handed it to the first employee I could find. She was puzzled, of course. I couldn't care less.

This is absurd. Every theater in New York and most every cinema in America has these devices. The law requires there be clear signs noting their availability. And common sense ought to tell these Vegas theaters that they ought to explain the devices and the clients who use them to their employees (sensitivity training?) and arrange a system for lending them out and taking them back after the show.

My license somehow ended up in the Lost and Found. I'm sort of impressed, frankly, that someone involved with the theater even knew that that's where it was. Imagine the nightmare if that wasn't the case.

Unacceptable.