I flew into Las Vegas in the morning.  I do not fly often, not because I’m fearful of the practice but simply because I have no occasion to do so.  It is a curious thing, humans caravanning around the globe at forty-thousand feet.  I imagine that the predecessors of this technology would be awestruck at this view of the top of the clouds and so am I, every time.  Furthermore, I made it from Nashville to Las Vegas in four hours.  It is amazing what we sometimes take for granted!

Collecting my senses and my carry-on luggage I stepped off the plane and into a strange realm where none of my rules seem to apply.  Suddenly, the silence that I often enjoy became a commodity to be won or lost.  I watched money fly around like leaves from the trees, the wind shifting unpredictably and without bias.  Sex was solicited on the street alongside buffet coupons.  An avid walker, I strolled from casino to casino for the length of a day, observing. 

At length, I entered the famed Caesars Palace, at which point I was becoming immune to the architectural grandeur and the clanging and ringing of slot machines.  I began to notice people and their supposed place in this place.  I passed one gentleman in particular who seemed to be disoriented.  He was probably in his late forties, medium build, clean-shaven, and with short salt-and-pepper hair.  He caught my eye because he was wearing a black t-shirt with the word UNITY spelled out across his chest in white.  I made passing eye-contact and walked on. Making various corrections in my course, I was bound for the lavatory at which point I noticed that this fellow was walking just behind me.  Still perplexed as to my route, I stopped for a moment to get my bearings – and the man stopped as well, then awkwardly passed in front of me.  I continued and so did he, all-the-while watching me over his shoulder.  He was following me!  I stopped again and changed direction, and so did he.  He seemed troubled, like he wanted to talk to me, but I did not find myself in the mood for conversation.  I made various twists and turns through a maze of gambling machines until I evaded my stalker at last.  He did not fit the profile of a pan-handler.  I will never know what he wanted from me.

I returned to The Flamingo, where the concierge was holding my luggage until the rest of my party arrived.  It would be a few hours, so I sat down at a Blackjack table to rest my legs and to calm my nerves.

To Be Continued….