All You Can Eat
Standing in the heat in the middle of the casino strip of Las Vegas, I stood hungry and sweating profusely. In addition to being there in the middle of a desert in the late summer, I was also surrounded by reflective surfaces that magnified the heat and my discomfort. Me and my crew had been dropped of by a ride that needed to visit his parents. They lived in the suburbs and did not want him to bring three of his closest dirtiest friends.
I asked several people if they knew where a grocery store was. Each one stood dazed by the question, hypnotized by bright lights they all answered the same, “I am not sure I know what you mean.”
I would describe it to the best of my ability. A large building filled mostly with food that one could purchase for eating. Their eyes would light up with recognition, “Oh you mean the buffet!”
No, no I didn’t. Six people in I finally caught someone who knew what I meant. They were so casual. It was refreshing. “No problem, it is just down this street about three stop lights. It will be on your right.”
Our hearts were lifted as we set out during the road; a half hour walk of the district we started in we realized that it was at least two miles between each stoplight.
“Right,” I thought as I kept walking, sure that the fate that awaited us in a desert with no water could not be worse than the nickel machine purgatory we were hopefully leaving, “No problem.”