Living in a city like London can force you into a rut. Coming as a tourist, it’s a big city of a thousand attractions, bars, restaurants and buses. Sometimes, living here is like being run over by a bus made of smog and being dragged through a crowd of constantly disapproving people in suits, who are also made of smog. You need something to pull you out of the haze.
I needed a jolt. I needed a place so ridiculous, so perfect in its absurdity; a place literally made of electricity. Las Vegas.
The city could provide the shock to the system my jaded gay brain sorely needed. Las Vegas is like a city made on a dare. Las Vegas was where I needed to be.