Cash Flow and Crazy People

Crazy has a smell. Of one hundred dollar bills, cigarettes, and expensive booze.
I love Las Vegas. It’s bright. It’s fun, it’s America but it’s not. There is an eclectic mix of people filling the casinos from various countries all over the world. Men are dressed in their expensive sport coats and women dress to impress in stilettos and sequined cocktail dresses.
Forget the nights of signing off on an expensive tab at the Aardvark. The people who come to Vegas are looking for the time of their lives and have little to no reservations about what their credit card statement will look like next month. Unlike the rundown dive bars surrounding my college campus, every club in this city is lit up with glamorous people, flashing lights, and loud music. DJs can be found at every hour of the day spinning their turntables for crazed dancing fans.
Similarly, the casinos never close, and the sound of change and cash flow fills the room as people rejoice in a win or walk away with lowered heads at the huge loss they just came face to face with. It’s as if time stops, and it’s easy to find yourself walking outside from a night out and realizing the sun is coming up, and the next day has already begun.
By night three I find myself wanting my bed more than any of the free booze or new acquaintances. Saying goodbye is always easy when it’s finally time to go. Walking downstairs you enter a room of bright neon lights and dehydrated people. Checking out you’re reminded of the room service you ordered to your room two nights ago when you just didn’t want to wait in line for the pizza place downstairs.
Finally, as you anxiously wait at the airport for your ticket to quietness and a nap you pass row after row of slot machines full of people trying to make up for the money they lost in the days before.
You have a few dollars left. Why not try one more time?
---Megan Jones