Le “strip”

My phone rings as I’m sitting on a plane ready to go to New York. I’ve made plans to meet up with Kim to wander the city together some ten minutes prior. The ring on my phone isn’t the usual, so I know it’s work.

I reluctantly answer and say, “I’m not going to New York, am I?”
“No, but don’t worry it’s better”

Better for me really could only have been Hawaii or the Caribbean and I am pretty certain it’s neither.

“Las Vegas!”
“I HATE Las Vegas.” My tone is flat and unimpressed.
“Oh. Really?” She assumes I’m just joking.
“No really, I HATE Vegas, more than anything.”

I’m sure there are worse but being surrounded by drunk idiots does not, in my world, get classed as a, “good time.” I had no choice so I gathered my things and got on the other flight which was parked right next to my gate. Perks of the job…

At least it was warm, a nice 30 degrees and I do enjoy a little sun but Vegas is a strange place… The mere fact that you can still smoke indoors puts me off a bit. I don’t like seeing ashtrays inside hotels, it’s odd. Being hit on by someone who probably couldn’t even recite the alphabet wasn’t doing it for me either. All the same, I decided I wouldn’t rent a car this time around. I haven’t been to the city for years so I thought I’d try and give it another chance but it was just as I remembered. Fake. Muggy. Smokey. Unpleasant. I took photos anyways because it’s true there are a few things to photograph but I think I can safely say next time I want to rent a car and head for the hills.

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