I have seen some interesting sights since moving to Vegas. One sight that I see fairly often and always leaves me filled with curiosity is that of the lone person pulling a roller suitcase down the sidewalk of a busy street.
Jack and I live in an old neighborhood (And by old I do not mean quaint, charming, or any other real estate adjective. I just mean *old*.) about ten minutes north of the Strip. I often see people, always alone and always with one suitcase. They are generally looking around confusedly, probably wondering where they are, how they got there, where the Strip is, and why daylight is so freakin' bright in Vegas. I like to imagine the story that got them there; it's probably more entertaining than The Hangover in most cases.
Today for example I was driving home from the gym (house of torture) and I saw one such sad soul. She looked to be in her twenties or thirties, overweight, and as per usual confused. This individual, whom I imagine is from somewhere like Kansas and is named Melissa or Amanda, was wearing a white sun visor with a large ponytail of brown wavy hair protruding over the dingy white band. Melissa/Amanda also had on a bright bubblegum pink, baggy tank top and blue jean capris. She had with her a black, carry-on sized, roller suitcase which she pulled sluggishly behind her. As I drove by, I saw her do the confusion twirl as she tried to get her bearings. Melissa/Amanda then settled her portly, pink self against a silver streetlight with her suitcase resting against her knobbly knee. She appeared to be waiting for someone. Perhaps a taxi. Will it come? Will she get home?
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