The clock above my head ticks slowly, the sound ever increasing as the minutes pass by; tick, tick, tick. I normally do not notice the time while I work, usually I am the energizer bunny of workers, in early, out late, always working or willing to, but that day was different; I had a date; a first date to be exact. Finally the time has come for me to go home; I step out into the warm Vegas air, I can smell the familiar scents of fall slowly encroaching on the city.
September in Vegas is typically warm, with the average daily temperatures in the upper nineties. I lite a cigarette and walk through the parking garage to my car. My mind was racing; what will he be like, will he be funny, boring; I even allow my thoughts to drift to what he would look like naked. I arrived home and start preparing. The warm water of my shower feels silky against my skin, forcing all the stress and unpleasantries of work off my body, washing it all down the drain.
Washing myself with the soapy, scratchy loofa, a familiar smell, of Plumeria flowers after a nice Hawaiian rain, fills the room, allowing peace to fully engulf me. I dress in a brown and black paisley shirt with long see through sleeves and a sweetheart neck line,, that flattered my bosom perfectly, along with a silky, stretchy, pair of boot cut black pants and some modest 3 inch brown leather clogs with small beaded daisies on the toe strap. Now I was ready for my evening.
As common for dating in the 2000’s we had agreed to meet in a public place, so neither he, nor I, would know where the other lived. The plan was to have a few drinks and then watch an eighties cover band that plays nightly in the Palms Casino, one of the newer casinos in Vegas, and not located on the strip, which makes arriving and leaving less of a hassle. I park in the parking garage and after noticing I was a good 20 minutes early, give him a call to see if he has arrived yet; he was just leaving work but we agree to meet near the cashiers cage in about 30 minutes.
Stepping into a casino is like traveling in time, or being lost in time, it is mysterious, glorious, captivating, and on some level horrifying all at the same time. Big money goes into making sure all five senses are bombarded and that each tricking the brain that you are the king of the world. The music is delightful and upbeat, there are no words but all the sounds are happy, whimsical, and encourage my feet to tap, to put a little hop in my step; those steps lead me to a slot machine which has its own rhythmic beat that says “Pick me, Play me”.
The smell of a tropical island rushes through my nose, instantly stimulating my need to want a drink. I plop down on a shiny vinyl stool in front of a Wheel of Fortune machine and within a few moments a waitress is at my side asking for my drink order. Since the smell of islands still lingering around me, I order a personal favorite, Sex on the Beach. While I wait for my drink I slide a crisp new twenty dollar bill into the machine, almost automatically I place my hand on the smooth plastic buttons of the machine and once I press them, the dreadfully delightful rush I get from gambling.
My drink arrives, and the tartness of the cranberry and vodka cause my lips to pucker around the straw. As my lips release their grip on the straw, I look up to see a man in his mid-twenties watching me from about 10 feet away. As our eyes meet | realize he is my date. “Hi I’m Linda, you must be Justin” | said with a slight crack in my voice, while giving a timid, nervous wave; he smiles, and our night begins. We make our way over to the central bar, my arm through his, allowing him to lead the way.
We have a few drinks and engage in typical first date conversation, waiting for the show to open. Slightly tipsy and anxious to move from the bar to a more intimate setting, I ask the bartender when the door will open for the band; to our surprise, the show was dark on Thursdays. We decide, instead, to find some food. The restaurant is busy but not packed and we are seated relatively quickly. We order our drinks and our food, and our conversation evolves from common topics to more in-depth life passions.
The topic turns to quantum gravity and quantum reality and I see his eyes, filled with passion are glow and dancing, like the seductive flames of a campfire on a dark, quiet night in the wilderness. In that moment we are alone, the restaurant, the patrons, and the staff disappear, just like in the movies when they pan the camera in and darken the back ground around a person, we too are engulfed in a bubble; the soft light of the candle on the table lighting is our faces, and the only sound is that of our voices and the clinking of our forks.
We remained in this bubble for nearly two hours, gently caressing each other’s hands, laughing fully at amusing moments, and if I dare say falling in love. Our waiter, interrupting us to bring the check, breaks our bubble like a baseball rushing through a window. We take our time meander slowly back through the casino; as a lazy river crawling through the tall grass and weeds of the plains, knowing it will dry up and end soon, and trying to extend the trip just a little further, longer.
We enter the parking garage and the night has turned from stuffy to a pleasant cool breeze, the wind slightly blowing my hair, adding to the allure of my essence. I lead him towards my car, and the conversation winds down and we begin to say our goodbyes. He opens my car door and he leans towards me, kissing my lips softly; my body erupts it excitement, my lips tingle, and I melt against my car. He smiles, and bids me adieu.
