After settling into my hotel room, I decided to venture back into the main section of the hotel and seek out the “$4.99 all you can eat!” buffet that I had been constantly reminded about since my arrival, and I couldn’t wait. The legacy of the Vegas buffets had made them one of the part I was most looking forward to after hearing tales of the limitless cuisines from every corner of the earth, and every type of drink imaginable available on tap. As I approached the buffet, the sight was indescribable; piles and piles of food surrounded the tables like the Rocky Mountains surrounding Vegas, people scooping larger than life portions onto their larger than life plates, and the strangest combinations of food that you would only ever find in Vegas. As I pondered the question of why you would ever want to combine a lobster and a steak for your meal, or mix together ice cream and chicken (yes, really) I grabbed a plate and dug in. Either I was caught up in the excitement of limitless food, or I just wanted to join in on the gorging; however an hour and four Gaviscons later I was regretting the tonnes of food I had consumed. Nevertheless, my stay had overlapped onto New Year’s Eve, and I knew that to stay in my hotel room that night trying to stop my stomach from exploding would be a way to miss a once in a lifetime opportunity.
I didn’t really know what to expect from a New Years Eve in Las Vegas, as it’s usually spent with a civilised, if slightly boring, meal with the family, and a glass of champagne or two at midnight. I set off from the hotel around nine o’clock, noticing how the night had stolen away the arid weather and instead replaced it with a biting icy wind, and made my way to “the strip,” the main road in Vegas which has all the grand hotels and gigantic casinos. Coming out of a small, serene side street, I was immersed in chaos; people were packed like sardines down the main street, hustling and bustling past each other like a fast moving river. Street vendors flashed their items, and the typical-tourists, laden with their “Las Vegas” themed T-shirts, caps and bags, descended on them like vultures.
At the same time as being swept down the road, I glimpsed inside the casinos; a funfair of multicoloured lights surrounded by hundreds of people from every walk of life. Business men, with their steel-grey suits and a look of determined concentration on their face and their boozy gold-digger wife hanging from their shoulder, were bustled in with the old “regulars”, their faces worn from a life of alcohol abuse, too drunk to know that they were gambling away their existence, and the timid gambler, splashing out $5 on a slot machine, and quickly regretting it as they watched their money disappear. I headed towards the gigantic TVs that were hoisted above the restless crowds as the midnight countdown began, and I could feel the excitement from the crowd. As soon as the clock struck midnight, the swarm of people exploded into cheers and applause, and for the first time since I arrived I felt a sense of real emotion from the city that promotes everything that is prosthetic and fake. Whilst strangers were embracing each other, alcohol was flowing, and the laughter of people drowned out the falling money in the slot machines, I made my way back to the hotel, feeling privileged to have been a part of a Las Vegas New Year.
Before I knew it, I was back on the twelve hour flight back to England, however this time the hysterical woman and hyperactive child didn’t bother me, and even the awkward conversation in the toilets didn’t horrify me as much. Instead, my mind was filled with the contrasting personalities of Las Vegas; at first I was seduced by its glamorous exterior, the flashing lights, the showgirls with their dazzling outfits, and the lavish hotels. However, it soon became apparent Las Vegas was a city that was built around disturbing ethics: strip clubs and cosmetic-surgeries were around every corner, and people were being exploited for every penny they had. Nevertheless, towards the end of my visit I saw that the city is full of people living a fast-paced high life, and if you can’t keep up with it, well, that’s your problem. I don’t know whether I disapproved of this way of life, or whether I loved everything about the city. All I knew is that I had to go back, and soon!
Cathy Wrigglesworth
