Can’t Lose for Winning

CITY OF CHAMPIONS – Let me offer a thesaurus free counter point to Shallan’s Las Vegas blog entry (read this 1st)

Some (many?) of you don’t know me, and for that, you should be grateful. Because if you did know me you might end up in Vegas with me and such a trip could leave you bloody, broke, and battered.

Las Vegas is an astonishing place where everything you’ve ever known about common decency and self control are thrown out the window. Everywhere you turn there is temptation and excitement. But like all of the tricks at the $89.50 magic shows at the $350 per night hotels on the strip, it is all an illusion.

Vegas is indeed a time warp and it is full of toys, but this escape from reality is merely a diversion from how this wondrous city is affecting you and your life. Going to Vegas is like walking out the front door of your house and bending over to see a beautiful flower blossoming from a crack in the cement sidewalk, only to turn around and see your previously exquisite home exploding with flames and smoke. The bright lights, beautiful people, and brushes with celebrities are diverting your attention from your plummeting bank account balance, alarming blood alcohol content, and the potentially permanent damage you are inflicting on your vital organs due to days of endless substance abuse.

In Vegas you don’t sleep, you don’t exercise, and you don’t eat (save one buffet full of prison food that you are only consuming because they have free champagne and you should probably eat “something” since it has been almost 60 hours since you ate the pretzels on your flight in). In Vegas you test your body’s limits and your mind’s sanity. It isn’t a harmless test like a pub crawl or vice war where the worst case scenario is waking up next to someone who looks they ran a 100 yard dash in a 90 yard room. Every step you take in Vegas threatens you with life altering situations and lifestyle affecting decisions. People often tell stories of their entire plane erupting in applause when the plane touches down in Vegas because of the energy on the plane for what lies ahead, I believe people should cheer when their plane takes off from Vegas because no matter how your body is damaged or mind decayed, at least you are alive and returning to normalcy.

If nothing else I have said sticks with you, here is a little story from my weekend in Vegas. Yesterday morning, my flight was scheduled for a 7:00 am departure. After arriving at the airport at 5:45 cheery and smiling (read still drunk) I checked my luggage including my blue guitar (another, different Vegas story). I joked with the airline employee about how I am a famous musician and she happily participated in our banter mocking enthusiasm for meeting a “celebrity.” Then I walked to the airport security line where things suddenly changed. My palms started to sweat, my legs started to shake, and my body temperature somehow simultaneously plummeted and skyrocketed. As one not unfamiliar with the aftermath of a rough night of drinking, I knew what was going to happen next. Unfortunately, it was the airport security line and there was no bathroom to be found. So I closed my eyes and prayed: “Please god, do not let me throw up all over myself, my friend, and all of these families around me. I know I have does this to myself, but please forgive me for abusing my body and ignoring your teachings this entire weekend. Please let me survive this endless snaking line and fight off the vomit sloshing around in my stomach and fighting to come out.” In some sick, divine quid pro quo, I did not throw up, I made it through the security line, but basically had to sprint to a bathroom to relieve not only my need to vomit but other bodily needs that arose seemingly right as I slumped through the metal detector. So I moved as fast as I could (read really slow) to the bathroom where I spent the next half hour putting on my own personal, disgusting fourth of July show. Multiple people who came through the stalls next to me said multiple times: “Oh my god!” and “are you okay?” I barely made my flight, but thanks to the ridiculous seating system on southwest airlines I got on the plane first. I took a window seat near the front of the plane and immediately passed out. I woke up when the flight attendant made the pre-flight announcements and was shocked to see I had a row to myself–the waiting area looked so full. Turns out every other seat on the plane, save the two next to me, was full–nobody wanted to sit next to someone in my condition. I smiled only for a second before feeling the vomit stirring again and immediately went back to sleep.

So to sum up, anybody want to schedule another Vegas trip?