“Wanna go to Vegas?”
“I’d rather read twenty back-to-back Mommy Blogs about how fruit juice has a lot of sugar in it,” I answer, then reconsider and pack my bags.
Before I continue, let me list below all the good things about Vegas:
1) OJ Simpson is in jail there.
Now let’s fill in the rest of the world (especially my UK friends who think I’m a wanker—that means genius right?) on what Sin City is all about.
For those of you who don’t know, I am here to paint you a picture of a wonderful town in the desert that draws many millions of people a year. These people walk amongst the many hotels and casinos with drinks in their hands and hope in their hearts.
NOTE: Las Vegas is the capital city for walking aimlessly. This might have something to do with the fact that there is no real reason to be here. If the phrase “It’s not the destination, but the journey that makes life enjoyable”, this applies to Las Vegas, except for the part about it being enjoyable.
Perhaps the Las Vegas Tourism Board would disagree with me, and maybe I’m a bit critical because I got mugged in Vegas and my wallet was stolen. Oh, no. Wait. The casino took all my money.
And that’s so much better.
Many cities around the world have their catch phrases, and you may hear this phrase as people drink “free” alcohol while gambling:
What happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas!
Knowing that STDs will remain at the city limits, along with having your childrens’ college fund restored as you leave, are comforts to the many visitors concerned about health and finances. It’s important to remember that Las Vegas cares way more about you than you care about it. It wants you to have such a good time that you shut your fu#*ing mouth, much like OJ does when a skinhead walks by his cell.
Jay and I are in Vegas because we are attending a Trade Show—a really good reason to be here—along with people all over the world convening to see demonstrations of things you can’t see anywhere else, except on Youtube. But it’s heartwarming to be in Sin City—to experience so many people together in one place, all sabotaging their self-respect and finding personal disappointment they never knew they had.
In Las Vegas, you can pretty much smoke in the restaurants and anywhere else, which I guess will not bother the Europeans. I don’t smoke, but even I was smoking. All the casinos have a “filter system” designed to filter out everything except cigarette smoke, bus exhaust, perfume and the smell of sweaty humans. All this adds to the excitement, much like being locked in your garage with your car engine running and a dead hooker in the trunk.
Speaking of which:
Walking aimlessly on the Strip after the Important Trade Show, Jay and I are propositioned by a prostitute. Jay looks like the actor Noah Wyle, and I, of course, look like a constipated Viagra actor.
“Hey Guys, how you doing?”
We are both flattered that a young blonde woman with dark roots is talking to us. Jay is 10 years younger than me, but the stick he carries up his ass adds years to his girlish figure.
“We’re doing fine,” I say, blessed with a knack for conversation.
“You guys have a room?” she asks.
“Yes,” Jay says, wondering if maybe she’s the Mayor of Las Vegas and wants to involve us in a quick survey.
“Well, how about we go up there and party?”
We now realize she is a hooker going for a Twofer. Both being married and card-carrying members of the I’ve Decided not to Contract Chlamydia on My Vegas Trip club, we smile politely and bid adieu.
“Did you know,” Jay states as we walk aimlessly, “that the Hoover Dam provides 53.4% of the electricity to the seventy million light bulbs in Las Vegas?”
Nowadays, if you have a Smartphone, you can pretty much call Bullshit on anyone making statistical statements like this. It would harm our aimlessness to check this fact, so I let it go.
We go to a disco and buy many drinks. We dance with strangers. We get drunker and louder, spill our cocktails and finally run out of Jay’s money. We walk back to our hotel rooms, basking in the glow of this wonderful City by the Sand.
And the seventy million lights.
And then we fall softly into our Special Spinning Beds, dreaming of next year’s magical delights.