Little Bill

I try hard not to let first impressions skew my judgment of new people or places I encounter. After all, there are many things that can work their way from just outside the periphery and affect my opinion of something and suddenly you’re left with a whole new view upon that which you thought you’d nailed down.

That said, I’m finding it very hard to not judge Las Vegas by what I’ve encountered in my first ten hours here. That I’ve never been here before and I’m already passing judgements leaves me wondering if judging Vegas by the strip is akin to judging all of New York City by Times Square. It’s just that this place seems so . . . fake. Everything that might be real appears to be hidden behind a façade. Whether it’s a fake Sistine Chapel scene painted in the Venetian, or the gravity-defying nipplularly portruding breasts attached to the girl whose body otherwise more closely resembled sticks of vine charcoal than an hourglass, everything feels so superficial here.

And I think this is no better illustrated than with my glass of water sitting beside me. Here at the Mirage I’ve got this lavishly decorated room, and yet when I turn the beautifully crafted and flowery faucet knob in the bathroom to fill my glass with tap water I’m suddenly presented with what might be considered a more accurate portrayal of Las Vegas: dull, bland, flat water.

Yes. I’m comparing Las Vegas to tap water. Don’t ask.

New York City tap water is some of the cleanest in all of New York State. It might be loud, obnoxious, fast-paced, smelly, and the first to be a smear on the face of the globe in a global thermonukular war scenario, but at least it’s real, with the exception of Times Square. And regarding that place, I can point you to three of five New Yorkers — native or otherwise — who will readily admit that they miss the grimy, porn-filled, prostitute-laden Times Square over the Corporate Disney, MTV teen-friendly, Bubba Gump Shrimp Company version simply because it’s not full of shit and the only counter-argument is that the crime really IS lower now.

And that has become a reflection of what I’m seeking in life too. No bullshit. Give me something real, unfiltered, and painfully honest and I’ll be a happy and content person. Now, if I can only get my life to slow back down. I’ve been on the go since Christmas. It’s time to have life return to normal. Perhaps then I’ll be able to breathe.