What Happens in Vegas: Part One

If one more person tells me "what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas," I’m going to have a violent reaction.

A few weeks ago, I went to Vegas to attend a conference for work, and tacked on an extra day for myself. It was a little strange for me because, even though I was mostly working, it was still the first time I’ve been away all by myself. It didn’t take long to realize that Vegas was nothing like home. And no, I don’t mean the bright lights and the gambling and the legalized prostitution. I had more men approach me and show an interest in me in 24 hours in Vegas than in the past year here at home. At first I didn’t quite get it. I was like, "Am I somehow more attractive on the West Coast?!" But when I started to think about it, it made sense. A few of my friends suggested that people are generally more friendly in other parts of the country than in the cold, hurried Northeast--and there may be some validity to that–but I think when people are away, especially in a place like Vegas, they tend to be more bold, more aggressive. You’re in a different mindset, not in that day-to-day routine, anticipating getting to work or trying to remember what you have to get at the grocery store later that night. And there’s very little risk involved. After all, what are the chances you’ll ever run into this person again? Plus, you have instant conversation–why are you here? where are you from? have you ever been here before? Perfectly acceptable on vacation, right? Yet conversely, somehow just walking up to someone, say, on the subway on the way to work and asking them where they live or what they do for a living is slightly creepy.

More than just the pleasure of meeting and talking to new people, my experiences in Vegas gave me a self-confidence that I had been sorely lacking. As a matter of fact, I didn’t realize just how badly I had been feeling about myself in terms of men, dating, etc., until I actually had attractive, engaging men going out of their way to talk to me. Which is not to say that every man that approached me particularly interested me. Out of about a dozen men I talked to, I only really wanted to spend time with two, and one of those men, a Jude Law lookalike with an intoxicating British accent to match, was married with kids and thus, immediately struck from any consideration. And the other one, well, I guess that would make a good Part Two to this story.

When I came home from the trip, I found myself in a full-blown post-Vegas depression. No one was approaching me, no one was interested in hearing all about who I was, no one was asking to spend time with me. Why does everything have to stay in Vegas? I did take home some of that self-confidence I gained, but how long is it going to last now that I’m once again entrenched in "no man’s land"? Do I have to travel nearly 3,000 miles just to have men show an interest in me, men that I’ll likely never see again?! Some of the post-Vegas depression still lingers, and I’m not quite sure how to make it go away.