You lie, I lie, we all lie. It’s a social necessity to function in day-to-day life. I’m sure that we can agree that most people don’t ACTUALLY want to hear a five minute diatribe about how your day was. We want to hear “fine” and then we can move on. Every service industry job is based around providing good service, but also doing it with a happy face and a smile. There is one scenario that is prominent in Vegas though, and that is the ‘Asshole Gambler’.
Something happens to you when you step foot on the Strip. For lack of a better term, I’ll call it the ‘Vegas Effect’. Your good becomes better, but more importantly, your bad becomes worse. That’s why Las Vegas kicks so many people in the ass. This happens because the city as a whole is full of enablers. It’s an industry built on telling you what you can do and never saying no. That’s why Vegas draws people in, because they can live a fantasy in which they have power, status, and control. The great trick is that they can even scale it to how much money you have. Can’t get a penthouse suite at the Wynn? Go to an older off-strip casino, and all of a sudden that fantasy is realized. The first few times I got went to Vegas, I was definitely seduced by this, by as soon as you’re wizened to it, you see the fantasy lifted. This of course doesn’t mean you can’t have a good time in Vegas, but it’s definitely different. This was never more apparent than what happened the first night.
Flying westward is a special little type of time travel. The flight out from New York to Vegas is about five and a half hours. So while you’re trying to grab the last bit of shut eye you’ll get for the duration of your trip, you’re racing the sun westward. When the bump of landing jolts you awake with just a little bit of drool. As you take your phone off airplane mode, the clock shows up, and thanks to the timezone change, your trip across the country only took two and a half hours. I can’t tell you how many times this has kicked my ass. You leave in the early afternoon and arrive late afternoon, which means the whole night is yours. That first night in Vegas is murder, because if you crash early, the rest of your trip is doomed. You just have to power through that first night, and hope that you don’t make too many decisions you can’t come back from.
In the King’s Court (An Evening Courtside with LeBron James)
Part 1: Location, Location, Location
First and foremost, I will preface this, I do not like LeBron James. I think that it is beyond arrogant that anyone would call themselves a ‘King’ and that he gets treatment unlike any other NBA player. That being said, it was still a hell of a experience.
So my buddy Jake texted me around Christmas wanting to know if I was free to go to a Nets-Heat game. To be honest, I’m ambivalent towards the Nets, and I absolutely detest the Heat, but the allure of seeing LeBron play in person at his prime was intriguing. Little did I know however, that I was in for a much crazier experience. Continue reading “In the King’s Court (An Evening Courtside with LeBron James): Part I”