Mirages in Las Vegas
The flight attendant reached out to stop me: not so fast. I looked up in fear. He asked me to pay for my drinks. Here I was, thinking he brought me the second one to indulge me on my first trip to Fabulous Las Vegas.
The House always wins, I thought, he knew I was a sucker. No such thing as a free lunch.
Aphorisms define Las Vegas, a place where many have tried but few have succeeded. From an age still young enough to believe secret secrets are no fun, we learn what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.
This makes sense because Vegas grants American travelers the most distilled versions of any vacation. A family might pose in front of the Eiffel Tower so that their holiday card can read “We went to Paris. Our children engaged in the world beyond their screens.” Weeks or months later, friends and acquaintances can remember these photos and make conversation: “Ahh, I see you went to Paris. The cafés, eh?”
At this point, the friend and acquaintance have established common ground. After walking in circles through a combination of the Venetian, Caesar’s Palace, and the Bellagio, I surmised I had seen enough to hold a defensible conversation with a stranger about a made-up trip to Italy.