When in Vegas

     Las Vegas, 9:47 P.M., two unopened boxes of cigarettes in my kitchen drawer wait to burn into my lungs like the city through my bank account. I looked out to my balcony, where my view lined up perfectly with The Strip. Every night, when the clouds aren't too hazy, the view of the desert fades to a dim black, and the fiery sun isn't too blazing to detract your view you can spot the same spectacle that I did right then, only the neon lights won't be so totally artificial and fake as hell to you as to me. Now, the lights are lovely, and hold a kaleidoscope of colors, if you like neon. Glossy counterfeit neon. Logos shine with a specific and unrelenting vendetta against the darkness, never leaving the city in the gloom, but also never allowing it to stay dim. The signs glitter gigawatts of greed, misery, and guilty fun, 24 hours a day, 365 days a year.
     To all the tourists streaming in the city it was kind of like the notion of an exotic place like Zagreb or Reykjavik to the rest of the world. A trip they all dream of taking at least once in their lifetime, which constantly attracted them with their imaginations of what there was to do; everyone from the most desperate loners to happily married men and women glancing this way, even if just for a single second, of what there was possible, of what could have been here. But nonetheless, not a move they would want to make permanent. Vegas is like that. There was a prominent attraction here. One that promised a bounty of money, sex, and fun. But the first was an obvious illusion, that only took the hearts of foolish. The second was a given but not without danger, and expense. And the third was never fraught or forgotten, but its mirage depended on perspective. But the attraction was long gone for me. And it wasn't a visit, for me this was my life.
     I strolled down to the bumbling crowds of people, heading to The Strip. Waves of electricity cackle the air around me, emanating from the pop facades of all the different buildings which actually started molding the atmosphere. It mutated the ambiance of the night, a night that was so repetitive to me but to others made it feel like the night for things to happen. I remember my first walk here. It was a promise waiting to be completed, the glow of the city bearing witness, the exuberant buildings officiating it, and everything else in the city enforcing it. Twenty years later, and I'm still waiting. Down here was the kind of Vegas omitted in TV shows and movies. Pictures of gorgeous stunning women lining up the casinos, peculiar people with odd quirks fascinating onlookers, and booming employees only doors paint a harrowing story from the real tale. The women escorted by men hiding guns, and also hiding their rings, the weird people, high on all sorts of illegal drugs who only entice you for a second before disgusting you with their vomit on your jacket, and the doors leading to hidden elitist clubs, hiding more than just a class ordained structure but strip clubs and illicit clandestine business deals.
     Beside me towers of gigantic hotels and casinos stood tall, hovering over the people along the avenue. Its glittering amnesiacs shone the lights of Circus Circus, Desert Inn, Stardust, Las Vegas Hilton, Riviera, Treasure Island, Venetian, Ceasers Palace, and Bellagio. I head into one of them, seeking out my best friend who worked as one of the tellers. Looking at the gamblers I saw their thirst to win, and using chips to take away from the stigma of dollars, as they took each one of them one by one until you went to go exchange it for money and realizing that you've thrown away your mortgage payments and juniors college funds. I hailed a hand to my friend and he came along. We head to my car, all the while stripping ourselves of anything that reminded us of this city.
     Once we got in I sped the other way, only looking back until we were just far enough that we could only make out the glow of the city. Here it looked so miniature, so tiny and fragile. It reminded me of a toy play set I used to own with all the lights glitzing into the night. I thought how precious. The memories whizzed quick like a bee sting and dissipated once Vegas was lost out of sight. I was its greatest lover, and it, my only.