Some Musings on Vegas
It’s easy to get lost in Las Vegas. Not physically, I mean. The Strip is a well-lit straight line; you know immediately if you’ve left the beaten path by how the shadows begin to emerge and the tall buildings aren’t as tall. But spend a few days in the City of Sin and your mind is what begins to wander. Days of the week are mostly useless, save for a reservation or a show. It’s how they want it to be - and it’s how they get it.
So what’s so appealing? The lights are pretty bright, I guess. The casinos are ornate and over the top. The drinks are strong (if you’re paying). Beautiful people seem to be well-stocked, as if someone pushes a button beneath the city and releases more attractive residents to the wild once the sun goes down.
I’m not sure what I was really expecting in Las Vegas. I am sure, however, that if I had more money to throw around it would have been a very different experience. Isn’t that how life in general is, though?
Maybe Vegas is just the worst of us on steroids, a microcosm of society’s pleasures and vices. (No wonder the season of the Real World in Vegas was so awesome. Remember Trishelle? What a gem she was to reality TV.) It’s a bubble of self-indulgence, a built-in excuse to roll out when indecision strikes.
“I’m not sure if I should have another shot/bet another $100/eat dessert after that amazing meal. You know what? Fuck it, I’m in Vegas.” - said every person in Vegas ever
But then I met a grandmother on my flight home. She’s retired in Vegas, a good 20 minutes from the Strip. To her, it’s a permanent stay-cation. She doesn’t gamble, enjoys the good food, and rarely goes to the big casinos. Even without a love of the glitzy stuff, she decided to call Vegas home.
So I guess Vegas is what you make of it, as long as you don’t let it make you. I made it out with all my teeth, sans a marriage or tattoo. I even lost less money than I expected, although if I had stopped gambling after the first night I would have left with more positive results. Oh well.
My plane out of town was delayed on the TarMac for a thunderstorm and flash flood. People in Vegas must hate nature - something they can’t control the cost of and the return on. Then again, it forces people inside, where the cling-clang of another slot machine beckons. Vegas never sleeps, lost in its own world, profiting off the worlds others leave to go to Nevada for a few days. A little rain is as rare as a jackpot in progressive slots, so I doubt it ruffled too many feathers.
It’s easy for reality to slip away, if you want it to. You just need a plane ticket.