The other night Franco and I, a.k.a. Fairy Seinfeld got together for a night of writing. We’re trying to do it every week, so yay! We did a warm-up exercise created by him, which was so much fun to write! I’ll share it next week.
I knew I had today’s post to write, so I said, “Let’s write in memoir.” Because our writing dates are also our time to catch up, we do more talking than writing, so it was perfect that Vegas memories (somehow) got brought up. It goes without saying, that our next writing activity was to write about an experience in Vegas.
I initially remembered a time where my dear friend Beth and I were in a club, chasing around pretty girls so I could hit on one. I hadn’t even dated a girl yet, but Beth was the first person I had told that I thought I was a Lesbian, and this particular trip happened to be shortly after I did, so she was more determined than me. I was terrified! Anyway, as I began to write, I remembered our drive there that trip and it was really something! So, I instead, wrote specifically about the drive. Here’s mine:
The drive to Vegas was treacherous. Not because of the usual traffic-filled roads, ass-riding, brake checking, speeding in and out of traffic drivers, but because it snowed.
Beth and I spent the morning at work chatting online about our quick 24-hour Vegas trip we were about to take. We were there a half day just to make everyone else happy, but we were hardly working. Once it hit lunch time and our coworkers were heading to the break room to heat up leftovers, we were buckling up in my already packed car.
We stopped for snacks and a quick Target run for last minute toiletries, thinking we were already ahead of the traffic. We were hit with reality once we got to where the 91 and 55 freeways met. Since the lanes looked closer to a parking lot, we turned on Miley Cyrus to sing our hearts out and only stopped to talk when we had a moment to talk about the guys we hated. By the time we made it to the middle of nowhere the sun had already set and the traffic was still inching at 5 mph.
Miley Cyrus was still screaming into the radio when I asked Beth, “Is that snow?”
“No!” She exclaimed, laughing at me, barely looking up from her phone.
I paused and looked around at the other cars to see if anyone else noticed.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
She looked up from her phone and finally saw what I was seeing. Snow was floating down, slowly, and softly landing upon my car.
Beth looked over at me, then back to the front of the car. “Wow… yup… that’s snow,” she said in disbelief.
I turned Miley Cryus off so we could see better. Beth rolled her window down and stuck her hand out. I watched the snow fall to the ground and melt immediately. This moment in time seemed to be going as slow as the traffic. We’d inch forward a couple of feet then brake again. We were taking it all in. I was hunched forward, cradling my steering wheel, to see as much of the snow as possible. Beth still had the window down, but neither of us seemed to care how cold it had gotten inside. We eventually made our way out of the snowy patch and laughed about it, in disbelief, the rest of the way there.
After almost seven hours in the car and Miley Cyrus on repeat, we finally made it to the Venetian where our friend was staying.
The walk through the lobby was worse than the drive. Almost everyone was already dressed up for a night on the town, while we lugged our overnight bags across the casino in our sweatpants and oily faces.
Getting to the room, meeting everyone, and getting ready for the night happened really quickly. Somehow we even managed to take two or three shots. We hadn’t even gotten a chance to put our suitcases away in a corner, before we were rushed out the door, like a herd of sheep, with ten others. Beth and I were still trying to wipe away our drive when we squeezed everyone into the elevator. Once the doors closed and the elevator started making it’s way to the casino, Beth and I looked at each other, giggled, grabbed each other’s hands and mentally prepared for a night out in Vegas.