City Speak: Lareese Craig
Lareese Craig Vacuums Vegas
When my best friend and I finally decided on a holiday destination I couldn’t wait to tell everyone. “We’re going to Vegas.” At this point I had no idea what I was letting myself in for, I’d never even been to The States let alone Sin City but everyone’s reactions soon let me know how amazing it would be.
I could hear Mr Big whispering in my ear, “Here come the diamonds, baby”
As we were flying over Nevada I could see dessert, dessert and oh, a small house. Nope, my mistake, just a rather large American camel. Frowning, I turned to my friend, that’s when she said I should have gone to the toilet when we were being seated, “Actually, I would quite like to know where everything is?” She just gave me a disappointed look, the type your mum gives you when you bring back an unfortunate looking boyfriend. Kate is one of those people that love to research everything before she goes away. She’s got an itinerary, a map, the local cab driver’s number, the Bellagio fountain schedule, an in-store meeting with the Coca Cola panda. You name it she’s got it covered. In England it’s a whole different ball game. She’s three hours late, her rooms a pig sty and she doesn’t know her left from her right. Literally.
I didn’t need a window seat to know we had arrived. Shimmering lights streamed the skies warming the underbelly of our plane and the stars turned into dollar signs. The buildings stood side by side with us like Elle Macpherson on stilts. Sadly, we weren’t in the running for becoming Britain’s Next Top Model but we were certainly in the running for an unforgettable twenty-first birthday bash!
Garish, psychedelic prints carpeted the casino floors in a bid to keep everyone awake, slot machines ping ping pinged and cigarette smoke snaked around our nostrils. I’m not into gambling, I thought, as I desperately rinsed my pockets for my last dog-eared dollar. “Let’s go on the Sex And The City machines over there, they look fun!” my BFF squealed. Seven hours later we were still there: tied to the same seats, looking at the same screens trying to win a Mr Big shoe bonus. My eyesight was so clouded at one point I thought War Horse was speaking to me. Turns out it was still Carrie Bradshaw. I went from being sober, to outrageously drunk and back again a total of fifteen times that evening. I even asked the cleaner if I could vacuum with an American hoover to see the difference…
I could hear Mr Big whispering in my ear, “Here come the diamonds, baby,” for a long time after that trip!
