Chapter 2: Chapter 2: Arriving in Vegas
We begin at a convention in, of all places, Las Vegas. Now, why writers feel a need to meet in such a garish town is beyond me, but there was a writing convention there. I flew in on Thursday, and the convention started Friday. It would be over on Sunday, and my flight out was Monday night.
I’ve only ever been to Vegas one other time. It was for a magic convention. Which, by the way, was one of the most fun times in my life, if not the most important. And it fit for it to be in Vegas. There’s a lot of magic to be done in Vegas. A lot of magicians make their living in Vegas. Some of them are even good. So I went to the magic convention. I learned how to do a lot of great tricks, and I learned that the most important part of any magic trick isn’t the sleight of hand or the gimmick; the most important part is the story you tell.
Even though I learned something that helped more with my writing career than my non-existent magic career, it at least made sense why we were in Las Vegas.
I have no idea why they’re having this convention in Vegas. Maybe writers like to gamble. Maybe some people get inspired by the constant flashing lights and annoying noises. Maybe it’s just a cheap place to hold a convention. I don’t know.
As I flew in, I looked at the itinerary. As my father used to say, itinerary is the word they use when they want schedule to sound important. According to the schedule, then, I was supposed to give a talk on writing dialogue Friday evening, sit on a panel Saturday morning for a question and answer session, and run a brainstorming session on Sunday after lunch. I was also supposed to have a book signing session during the day Friday, where basically every published writer invited to attend would all be sitting in one huge conference room signing books.
This is a way for us all to develop carpal tunnel syndrome, if we haven’t already. It is meant, I think, to cripple us all so that we can’t write anymore. Maybe the convention is sponsored by an aspiring writer trying to clear the marketplace.
*
I stepped off the plane into the Las Vegas airport. They have slot machines in the terminal; as soon as you get off the plane. It’s like they want to give you every possible chance to lose every cent you have. A really nice vibe to get as soon as you step into a city. There was this one machine that kept yelling at me. You know the way they yell wheel of fortune on TV? “Wheel… Of…. Fortune!!!!” It yelled it about every seven seconds. It was awful. I got out of there as fast I could.
We are staying at the Tropicana hotel. I don’t know why I say ‘we’. I don’t know anyone else at the convention. Not personally, anyway. Often times, Julia comes with me to these things, but her son is in a play this weekend, and she just couldn’t miss it. But that’s fine. I have about two-dozen books to read. No matter how bored I get, I’m pretty sure I won’t run out. I don’t read as fast as my father does.
The Tropicana is a nice hotel. Not quite so garish as some, it’s shaped like a regular hotel. There are no roller coasters, it isn’t a castle, there isn’t the scale model of some city anywhere, and it isn’t like an alien ship crashed in the desert. Instead, it’s just like the kind of casino you see in the movies. Bright colors, wide open spaces, built like a maze, people all over the place in various stages of losing everything they once owned.
If I’d wanted to be rich, I would have opened a casino.
I find the front desk. The young woman behind the desk is attractive, but her face is so completely painted that I can’t be sure if that’s real or just illusion. “Can I help you?” She asks.
I see that her name is Betty. It’s on the name tag. Still, I don’t feel comfortable calling people by their first names when I’ve just met them, unless they introduce themselves to me. “Hello,” I say. “My name is Brandon Weiss. I’m here for the convention. There should be a room waiting.”
She types away on her computer, fingers moving faster than mine do. “Ah yes,” she says after a few seconds. “Mr. Weiss. You’re in room 1745. Do you need help with your bags?”
I don’t really. But they are kind of heavy. “Um, sure,” I say. I don’t want to be any trouble, but then, I am one of the people who are supposed to be important.
She presses a button on the desk, and a bellhop is there almost immediately, grabbing my suitcases and leading the way to my room.
While we are walking, the bellhop tells me about all the great things that I could do while I waited for the convention to start. I don’t really remember what he said. I was doing my best to ignore him. My hands were itching to get some cards in them, and my body was aching from the time spent on the plane.
Maybe, if I can get tickets, I’ll go see some magic. If not, I’ll just take a bath.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone