Vegas Baby

I'm tired of numbering. They're all out of kilter anyway.

So......Vegas. Love the place. I would go every weekend if I could just hit that one big jackpot to bankroll future trips. I don't play blackjack, roulette or craps. It's the slots for me. They're like a big adult babysitter. I could sit there mesmerized for hours. I am the casino owner's dream. The more noise they make, the better I like them. If I win 10 bucks, I'm thrilled. A hundred and I am ready to quit my job.
Even if I was flat broke and attending my next Gamblers Anonymous meeting in the next ten minutes, I would stop and watch the people around me. Another mesmerizing activity.
The food. Well, the food is pretty effin good. I never felt too bad about eating so much since I spent most of my non-slot time walking from one hotel/casino to another-and I had the blisters to prove it.
The one thing I don't like about Vegas is all those escalators. Anyone in my family will tell you I have an unnatural fear of escalators. The ones in Vegas are really tall. This is a phobia that has developed late in life. They never used to bother me, but now just the thought of having to go near one makes me break out in a cold sweat. I don't know if it's the height or the motion or the combination, but they just make me wanna hurl. I have endured much ridicule from those near and dear about this. Can't help it, don't care. I'm taking the elevator--even in Vegas.