This was originally published on January 16, 2023 back when this newsletter was on Tinyletter. It's quick, rough, and perhaps in need of an edit. I hope you enjoy it in its full, messy glory.
At some point over the last 7 months, I’ve become afraid of Las Vegas. This whole time, I’ve missed the big open sky crystal blue and the violet mountains always in the distance. I missed the food – so good, like every meal cracking open a new molecule in the mouth. So good it inspires tears. During this visit, I’ve felt a little afraid. A little agoraphobic. The skies – mostly overcast while I’ve been here – are bearing down on me. Have the cars always driven this fast? Have there always been this many? Something in the city feels like it’s overgrown like a wobbly table filled edge to edge with heavy junk and only more coming. I think something’s gonna give. Constantly feels like the city is on the edge of something happening. A disaster at any moment. Perhaps that’s how it is everywhere in the world, but here, there are no illusions.
I walked into my hotel room on the Strip and immediately felt horny. I got a sweet discount on it because I’ve got an auntie on the inside. Don’t be jealous. There’s a low bench built into the window and the dimensions are perfect for fucking. Immediately, I envision the different positions enabled by this bench with a perfect view. The bed is set within an indent in the wall - it looks cozy and plush. I’ve given up The Apps for the new year – but this hotel is just too good not to use, right?
Grindr opens. I log back in and suffer a few messages from tourists, horny locals, chasers. Slowly, I remember why I deleted it. In the sea of randos, a big hunk of a man who’s polite and built like Captain America with a mustache. It soon becomes clear he’s flaky and eventually I give up the chase. The Tarot told me to get off the apps – and I was grateful! This was a moment of weakness. I log out (but do not uninstall the app, yet…I’m not gonna use it! I promise!)
This happens again at my next hotel room, this one at the Aria. It’s even more luxurious and it of course instantly makes me horny. I immediately strip my jumpsuit off and walk around the hotel room naked, aroused at the mere sight of everything. The drapes, lights, music, and temperature can all be controlled by a tablet right by the bed. I lay nakedly and play with it like an iPad baby, opening and closing the drapes on the wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling windows, setting the room to a toasty 78 degrees. This is so much better than my apartment at home, where the sun sets at like, fucking 3 pm and the radiators are out half the time. I’m warm. I’m basking in sunlight. I’m horny.
I send Captain America with a mustache a nude from my hotel bed, disgustingly luxurious view of the desert and the city brazenly included in the background. “I’m shopping right now, but maybe I can come later if the timing works out” he says. I reply, “maybe. If. Lol.” And he tells me I have the right to be annoyed. I don’t need permission to be annoyed! That’s so annoying. What’s the point of chivalry if you’re not trying to smash? Goodbye Grindr. FOREVER!
In the end, I filled both hotel rooms with my friends and my sister. We jump on the bed, eat take out by the huge windows, gossip until the mountains disappear into the night and the sun is replaced by a violet LED glow. My sister sleeps over in the king bed, snoring peacefully. We both get a turn in the hot shower with glorious water pressure and get ready in the giant bathroom mirror together, its flattering lights shining on us. I feel like, no, I know, this was all better than bad sex with a stranger. Throughout my nights here, all my friends and family discuss their desires to leave the valley. That the city is not seeming so shiny lately.
When we check out, I have a few hours to kill until my bus to LA. My sister and I get breakfast – some of the best food I’ve had in months – and then boba – some of the best I’ve had in months. I’m too tired to do more sight-seeing or idle shopping. We mostly sit and mostly cruise around in the Prius. We go back to see the old slummy apartment we lived in together. Surprisingly, it looks the same. Exactly as run down. I realize, as we drive to the bus stop, that this is the last time I’m going to visit the city.