In a city as sinful as it was perceived to be, I am amused of how pleasant my experience was in Sin City. Pleasant, actually is an understatement. Now I fuly understand the difference between the Vegas Strip and in any other strip there is in the world. One struggle there is would be looking like I’m below 18. And that, curse my Asian blood, is why people see me cute. Cute was okay. It was better than not existing anyway. But being cute doesn’t add up to my cards this time, for being cute lowers my chances of actually having fun. Being denied in certain clubs; security eye-ing me inside the casino; and having my Philippines Drivers License deem invalid wasn’t actually the scenario I expected. State IDs and/or Passport would be the safest to present in order to gain access everywhere in Vegas. But really, would you risk bringing your Passport with you when you try to get wasted? I definitely do not.
Good thing my definition of having fun doesn’t involve clubbing alone. On our second night, we decided to watch Mystere. It’s an original composition by Cirque du Soleil that of which was pure genius. I fancy watching plays in a stadium full of dressed up young adults who marvels at the amazing cirqus show. My jaw literally is dropped the whole time as I clap my excitement on every stunt the performers make. A mixture of street-theatre style comedy, cirqus stunts, opera/dance, and elaborate sets make the whole play world class. And to top it all of, we watched it in Vegas. How fancy is that?
Apparently, if my memory serves me right, Amber approached us to offer help in carrying a drunk friend. She took a hold of my friend on his left side, while we took care of the other. We walked for a good 10 minutes to a taxi station where she left us and instructing us to take a taxi back to our hotel. I guess Vegas was too much for us to handle, alright. But at that time, I was just so grateful to Amber’s help since we really do need any help we could get. When we reached our hotel, the security even offered wheel chair for us to use. Which we did. For the friend we were trying to carry was the biggest from our group.
So as we finish explaining all these to a Vegas’ police officer (which I doubt even cares at all) all I can think of was may God bless Amber. Really. May God bless her. Because only God can attest to everything that have happened. So God bless Amber. If that was even her real name.