Mirrored wall beams bounce reflections of wriggling hips and jiggling busts around the casino floor. Lithe young ladies in bikini-esque burlesque garb—i.e., “dancing dealers”—shimmy atop platforms. Below them, others orchestrate blackjack action.

Anchoring this tantalizing tableau at The D Las Vegas, the 100-foot-long, aptly named Longbar generates relentless buzzing. Patrons fill 35 stools. Chattering guests pool around them, rippling out like waves. Flair bartenders turn liquor bottles into glass acrobats beneath 15 wall-mounted TVs, blending into a blur of boxers throwing punches and pitchers firing fastballs. Through the throng and out the door, facing the pulsating fiesta of the Fremont Street Experience, is the D Bar. Abutting the hotel exterior, it still feels a part of the indoor scene. Why? Dancing bartenders.

On a frenetic Friday, this “party pit” vibrates. Ask the man responsible and his response is deadpan-blunt: “I like motion,” says Derek Stevens, gregarious majority owner of The D, who’s a Norm!-like staple at the bar’s end.

Photo by: Christopher DeVargas

“I often leave messages in the hotel rooms to come down and visit me there. Everybody in Vegas has to sell what they’ve got. For me, that’s an ability to reach out to a customer, tell a story, shake their hand,” says Stevens, for whom the 34-floor resort’s name has triple “D” meaning—referencing downtown, his hometown of Detroit and his nickname.

Sharing a schmooze with the D Man might even earn you a freebie. “I run up a pretty good bar tab every night,” Stevens says, chuckling. “If I keep it less than 36 inches long, I know I wasn’t going at it too hard.”

Swivel around and a celebrity might pop up before your nose. “The way they reformatted it, it’s just a cool place to hang out,” says actor/ex-mixed martial artist Randy Couture, a Longbar regular chillin’ with his gal pal, actress/reality TV star Mindy Robinson.

UFC fighters, WWE wrestlers and The Sopranos and Sons of Anarchy stars have been spotted along the Longbar.

“You get the old Vegas feel but with modern perks,” Couture says. “With the Downtown (Las Vegas) Events Center (Stevens’ sports/concert complex built from the former Clark County Courthouse), we were here to see boxing, Sammy Hagar and Lady Antebellum.” Adds Robinson: “It’s our special occasion place. We do football, birthdays. We love The D. It’s so Vegas.”

Photo by: Christopher DeVargas

And, oh yeah: “Every chance we get, we go to Andiamo,” Couture says.

That’s the upstairs Andiamo Italian Steakhouse, another Old Vegas throwback. “It’s like an Alice in Wonderland effect,” says manager Brad Lemma about the tunnel-like entryway opening into a décor of burnished warmth. White-tuxedoed waitstaff are bright accents, scooting between dark leather booths ringed by velvet curtains and crowned by scalloped lighting fixtures emitting a gentle glow.

“We call that our Al Capone Suite,” Lemma says, gesturing toward the wide, deep center booth. “When you’re in it, you feel like you own the room.” Celebrity diners have included Robert De Niro, UFC champ Frank Mir and, on a recent night, David McLane, founder of WOW! Women of Wrestling, sipping cocktails at the bar.

“When you sit in the booths, no matter who you are, you feel VIP,” says McLane. “It’s a 12-star atmosphere. And I haven’t had a bad meal here.”

Food? Steaks are dry-aged in-house (one eye-catcher is the Andiamo tomahawk, a 32-ounce ribeye, recommended with Andiamo’s signature “zip sauce”). Seafood is flown in daily from around the globe (note the 1.5-lb. Maine lobster). Pastas and desserts are handmade and homemade. Wash it down with adult beverages selected from a massive wine collection.

Should your stomach be in a more casual mood, there’s The D Grill. Even more laid back: American Coney Island and its flavorful chili dogs, tucked into a cozy downstairs nook.

Soak in more vintage Vegas atmosphere upstairs, where you’ll find several retro coin slots (remember the sound of coins hitting metal trays?) and a mechanical horse-racing arcade game, triggering the fevered shouts of bettors. Sip suds on the Vue Bar balcony overlooking the Fremont Street hubbub. Heading out, give the displayed Blarney stone a rub, though kissing is discouraged. (Same applies to the replica of the Manneken-Pis fountain statue of a little Dutch boy peeing, by the main valet—destined to become Selfie Central.)

See the showroom marquee? Pick a production from daytime to late-night: Comedy magician Adam London’s Laughternoon; interactive dinner-show mystery Marriage Can Be Murder; the gender commentary of Defending the Caveman; and the gyrating gents of Aussie Hunks. Missing all that motion in this ocean of stimulation? Back downstairs for you. “It’s so much fun,” says D Bar dancing bartender Shirl Mock, between slingin’ drinks and swingin’ moves. “You’re bartending, then they play your song. You’re fist-pumping and get up on the bar—it’s super exciting. I never resist the temptation.”

Resist nothing at The D. Except inhibition.