I was sitting in the parking lot of Palace Station in Las Vegas when the
fireworks started going off. It's a long story.
Las Vegas is one of those magical places where time and money and sense
get entirely warped, and what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas so often
because it's highly embarrassing and takes place under unreal
conditions.
Which isn't to say that Vegas is a dreamland; its filthy underside is
full of the same stories of paycheck-to-paycheck, stringing together a
few part-time jobs, praying that nothing happens to your uninsured ass
ordinary people as any other town, except everything is amplified here.
Directly across from the casinos that spring up off-strip to serve the
growing local populace you will find pawn shops and predatory loan
businesses offering paycheck advances and loans on your auto title. It
is still illegal, however, to pawn off your children.
2 comments:
Happy New Year, you rockstar, you.
I've never been to Vegas, and since I don't gamble the only thing of interest for me there is the sign graveyard where they have dumped the old neon signs from earlier casinos.
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