The streets will be crowded with people: tourists taking picture with their cell phones, women teetering in heels that are much too high, Hispanic men will stand on sidewalks flicking their porn cards to get our attention. It will smell of heat, body odor, decay, and desperation. I am going to Las Vegas and I couldn’t be more excited. Carvell and I are going on a kid less vacation with a few friends and I expect the trip to be nothing less than a hybrid The Hangover and Very Bad Things. If a body does not get buried in the desert than the whole trip will be in vain.
I am ready to go. I started with my list making about a month ago.
Green chevron Madonna t-shirt
White chevron green t-shirt
Orange skirt blue t-shirt
I have planned my debauchery just as I planned my wardrobe.
Things I think I will drink:
Things that should happen in Vegas:
I want to see a hooker (not sleep with just see)
Need to see those dancing fountains
Pretend that I am in Oceans 11 (only in my mind)
Decide if I am playing Brad Pitt or George Clooney
I need this trip to be fun. I need to laugh and feel carefree. Sometimes everything feels very heavy, and when that plane takes off I want to leave behind my feelings of melancholy in the contrails. In those trails will be the people who yell at me on the phone, the endless cases that I can’t work fast enough, and the classes I no longer give a damn about. In the contrails will be my lingering depression and desperation.
In Vegas we will laugh.
Three teachers, a musician, a scientist, a medical professional, and an enforcement worker will laugh at each other until we almost can’t take it.
This will be healing. This will be good.