I stayed up most of last night on the 20th floor of the Sahara, window open and Stratosphere blinking ahead of me. Had a lot to write about, but now that I'm actually in front of a computer I don't have anything to transcribe because, well, the paper's all back in the room. Hopefully being read by the housekeeping staff. If they can decipher my scribbly late-night handwriting, more power to 'em. As it stands I feel like the biggest dullard in Las Vegas right now, not having gambled or clubbed or even bothered to throw away money on anything except food.
There were some ideas percolatin in my head about what to do while I'm here. Unfortunately the Young Electric Sign Company has its neon sign boneyard open "by appointment only" and getting an appointment involves making a minimum $50 donation and hanging around on a Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday. So it goes. There's a group that's taken a few of the signs from the boneyard, refurbished them, and stuck 'em around Fremont Street if you wish to take a free walking tour, but it involves hanging around Fremont Street at night.
I am going for Pho though. You cannot deny me my weekly bowl of beef noodle soup, no matter how hard you try.
There was a loudmouth tourist on my flight out. Lord I can't figure out who I was more embarrassed for: him, or the rest of us. He was on his second or third vodka tonic (eh?) and was loudly explaining to his seatmates why he loves Vegas.
"CAUSE IT'S SIN CITY, BABY, I LOVE IT, THERE'S NO RULES, YOU CAN DO WHAT YOU WANT, IT'S AWESOME, I CAN'T WAIT TO HIT THE BEE JAY TABLES, AND AFTER THAT I'LL GET THE OTHER BEE JAY IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN, YEAH, YEAH, LOOK AT HIM, HE'S NODDING, YOU KNOW HOW I ROLL, BROTHER, HEY BABE CAN I GET ANOTHER ONE OF THESE, YEAH, BOY THEY SURE KNOW HOW TO PICK 'EM ON JETBLUE DON'T THEY, DO THEY LET YOU OUT OF THE AIRPORT HONEY? DO YOU WANNA PARTY WITH US? I BET YOU'RE A PARTY GIRL, YEAH, I WENT TO BODY ENGLISH LAST TIME I WAS HERE OH MAN I HAD A BLAST, I COULDN'T GET INTO PUR OR RAIN THOUGH, I'M NOT SURE WHY, BUT I'M GONNA POUND EM BACK LIKE NOBODY'S FUCKIN BUSINESS NO MATTER WHERE I AM, YOU KNOW, OH YEAH, HE'S WITH IT, YEAH WE'RE GONNA PARTY IT UP, NO RULES IN THIS TOWN, NUH UH, IT'S LIKE OH SORRY COMMISSIONER, I DIDN'T KNOW SHE WAS YOUR DAUGHTER..."
I sat in my seat, headphones over my ears, and silently said little prayers like I hope you get fucking taken for every cent you've got, you bastard. I hope they roll you right outside Cheetahs. I hope you "roll, brother" to some strip mall and end up gettin that Bee Jay from someone named Coco, and I hope she rolls you, brother, for all you've got.
But that's just how I roll, brother.