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| Friday, April 10, 2009 |
| Viva Las Vegas |
I love Las Vegas. I really do. Every little gritty detail. Whenever I’m there I feel like I’ve been given a weekend pass to a strange and dark planet, far from our suns orbit, where other people feel at home with lots of smoke and red neon. It’s like Disney in Reverso World. I keep checking to make sure my return ticket home, the one I’ve earned for good behavior, is still there.
Las Vegas usually inspires me to be very, very good. I’m never sure if it’s my fear of high school detention, fear of losing that ticket home, or my sense that life on other planets may not be all fun and games. It doesn’t always turn out the way I planned though. Once in awhile I do lose control. One trip I’ll never forget. I found I couldn’t get off the elevator and pass through the lobby without stopping at the gelato bar on my left and the pizza/pasta spot on the right. One thing led to another and I found my way back to these same two counters when I returned to the hotel each afternoon. It didn’t really matter because my shirt was already dirty and my calorie load was so high that to simply double it seemed insignificant. The funny thing was that other than a fierce stomach ache most of the trip and a nice round 7 lb. weight gain, it didn’t really bother me. It just felt right at the time. If I was going to behave like that at home, I would certainly do it behind closed doors. Most of us are raised to remember our manners and avoid behavior that might draw stares or bring attention. You can eat a scoop of ice cream in public, but the quart is for home consumption.
Las Vegas inspires most people to shed their inhibitions, their reserve, and their limits. I think that’s very scary, but most people find it to be very liberating and act like they’re really having a good time. I should know because I’m watching them.
When I’m home, I can’t leave my bedroom before I’ve had my coffee. When I’m away, I order room service the minute I wake up. I can be flexible, so when I’m in Las Vegas I have my morning coffee at any one of the hotel bars. They actually serve food, coffee and liquor at the bars in the daylight hours, and there’s usually no line for this show. I love it when the waitress asks some guy who looks like he got thrown from a moving car “tough night?” And he says “Nah. I’ll have the eggs with double bacon, and the hash fries extra greasy” or “French toast with double syrup, extra butter, and lose the orange slices and give me some pastry instead.” One afternoon I was thrilled by a woman who ordered cappuccino with a huge mound of whipped cream and an ice cream sundae with the works. I secretly long to behave like this.
Walking through the lobby of any hotel in Vegas is usually like a slow motion nightmare from childhood. I’m walking alone, straight ahead, just like I’m supposed to, trying to follow instructions. Hundreds of people are walking from the opposite direction, toward me, but out of order, not in their lines, and I’m getting pushed out of the way. Loud bells and happy shrieking noises are everywhere. This trip it dawned on me that all these people were having fun. This is their idea of a really good time, and they’re making the most of the experience. I decided to lighten up, learn to enjoy myself, and splurge. I found a pair of jeans on sale at Ann Taylor and bought a tube of fancy toothpaste even though I had enough to last until I got home.
The next morning that was me at the bar, ordering the large fruit cup (extra strawberries on the side) with my black coffee. Even though I lingered over my second cup, no one asked me how my night was. I put my phone on the bar so that if someone called me, they would hear Elvis singing Viva Las Vegas, which is my new ringtone, and know I was a party person too.
Oh well, “Viva Las Vegas! I’m gonna keep on the run and have me some fun.” Oh Yeah!
- Nancy
Labels: food for thought, Mindless Eating, Nancy
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posted by My Sensei @ Friday, April 10, 2009   |
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