I headed into Vegas, where I checked into Imperial Palace, a crappy Strip hotel that was only $27 a night but there was a reason for that. Tired, old, and with a huge check-in line on the edge of the casino, where I had to wait an hour for the key to a prepaid room—you get what you pay for, but I could have paid the same and stayed a few blocks off the strip in somewhere far more user-friendly.
Next time.
And if I'd stayed off the Strip, then I wouldn't have been stuck in the slow-moving sludge, unable to walk outside due to the huge fumbling zombie-like masses that trundled down the sidewalks. And I might not have come face-to-face with the obesity problem in America, which is on display here on the Strip.
I retreated quickly. This was worse than being in front of Penn Station on hockey night.
I've had really fun times in Vegas, but not this time. Being alone here didn't suit me at all, as I couldn't laugh and just ignored the obesity and sluggishness around me. I thought about the reputation of comic book fans as I was going to Comic-Con in San Diego tomorrow, and then I thought about how people at Comic-Con were way healthier and less obese than the walking future health problem epidemics on the Strip.
And then I went to a restaurant in a casino, where I got a huge portion of unhealthy food for a small amount of money. I pushed it around on the plate, picked out the avocado and ate it, and then depressed, went back to my shitty room to fall fast asleep.
Tomorrow I would rejoin my tribe at its regularly scheduled gathering, already in progress.
Next time.
And if I'd stayed off the Strip, then I wouldn't have been stuck in the slow-moving sludge, unable to walk outside due to the huge fumbling zombie-like masses that trundled down the sidewalks. And I might not have come face-to-face with the obesity problem in America, which is on display here on the Strip.
I retreated quickly. This was worse than being in front of Penn Station on hockey night.
I've had really fun times in Vegas, but not this time. Being alone here didn't suit me at all, as I couldn't laugh and just ignored the obesity and sluggishness around me. I thought about the reputation of comic book fans as I was going to Comic-Con in San Diego tomorrow, and then I thought about how people at Comic-Con were way healthier and less obese than the walking future health problem epidemics on the Strip.
And then I went to a restaurant in a casino, where I got a huge portion of unhealthy food for a small amount of money. I pushed it around on the plate, picked out the avocado and ate it, and then depressed, went back to my shitty room to fall fast asleep.
Tomorrow I would rejoin my tribe at its regularly scheduled gathering, already in progress.
1 comment:
I dunno; the fat zombies don't sound noticeably different that what you can see in Times Square these days. You didn't even have to leave home!
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