VEGAS VOID by Deji Wesey
“Hi you’ve reached Angel. Leave me a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you...Beep.”
Voicemail again. Where the hell is she? What time is it? I look down at the serrated bezel of my Breitling Bentley series watch, that I bought when I was on top of the world, the sapphire blue face reflects the track lighting of the Mirage Hotel lobby. 3:00 am. The club will be closing soon. The contrast of the decadent watch and my current pay scale reminding me of why I moved to Vegas. I had come to Vegas to escape having to deal with the growing pains of what I considered to be a shattered life. My business went under and the rug was slipped from under my feet.
I was crushed and didn’t know what to do with myself until a friend offered me a room in her house and a month to find a job. I thought I’d come out here and make a new life in the fifth fastest growing city in the world. Back home was full of reminders of my most recent failure and the friends & family who were waiting for me to become the next Jerry Maguire. I didn’t have to be that guy here because in Vegas you can be anyone you want to be as long as you look the part and play the part. No one really knows you in Vegas.
“Rico, what you doing?”, says Adam a co-worker of mine.
“I’m just chillin’ in the lagoon.”, I say referring to what we 1OAK promoters call the common area next to the Mirage hotel gift shop. “Chillin’ in the lagoon,” consists of grabbing three miniature bottles of Belvedere vodka and a Red Bull at the gift shop, taking a seat at one of the couches just across from the club entrance and waiting for a hot girl to come out of the club drunk and ready to capstone her night. Once that happens, just like any predator, we pounce. This night was different because I wasn’t just waiting on a random chick to catch my eye.
“Wait a minute man what happened with that chick that came to see you earlier? Damn she was bad!”
“I’m just waiting for her to come out.”, I say projecting confidence but knowing that things are not going to plan.
Fergie’s birthday party that featured Kid Rock DJ’ing is still raging inside the club. It was a great night for me since I had scored $500 on tables alone and my girls guest list was one hundred plus. It was a great night for all the promoters considering Snoop Dogg and Nelly were in the building. On nights like this one, when everyone made money, the one difference maker in our unofficial ‘Promoter’s Cup’ was who brought in the hottest chick. Tonight I won the trophy hands down.
A week ago I was having breakfast in the four bedroom house off Blue Diamond Road that I now call home when I got a phone call from a college friend. It was Angel talking about how she just moved to Vegas for work and how she was excited that we were living in the same city. She said she was really busy with work but at some point we would need to hang out. I was definitely up for that because I always liked her in college and wished we would have spent more time together than just that one date that landed us on the Laguna Beach boardwalk. Laguna always yielded results for me. The scenery there is the perfect backdrop for the possibilities of a burgeoning love interest. No woman can resist the way the moon reflects off the water and the soothing crash of the waves. I wonder if the scenery got the better of me that night because she abruptly stopped the party and I was clearly ready to go all the way. Angel intrigues me because she is not only beautiful but she’s intellectually stimulating and fun. In that phone conversation I sensed that she wanted to revisit things between us as well. Nothing was more of an indicator than the phone call I got this morning.
“Big Time! What are you doing?”
“Ah just getting ready to hit the gym before work. What’s up?”
“Oh okay. I just wanted to see what I should wear tonight.”
“I’m sure you got it. Just whatever you would wear to a club in LA.”
“No. I want to know what you want me to wear. I know how it is. I gotta represent if I’m coming to see you. I got my hair straightened for you and everything. I just need to know what color dress you want me to wear.”
“Wow, okay. Black. A black dress would do it...I’m sure your assets will take care of the rest.” I said jokingly.
“Oh you have no idea. I’ve grown up a bit since the last time you saw me.”
“Oh is that right? How so?”
“You’re just gonna have to see.”
When she showed up to the hotel I was standing in the lobby in my shark suit greeting groups of girls and hanging with the other promoters. I had adorned this suit to million dollar NBA contract negotiations but now it gives a false sense of refined professionalism to being a Las Vegas club promoter. Huddled in a group of my coworkers I stood there listening to my buddy LJ, a former Wall Street broker who also escaped his former life, talk about his poker playing exploits from the night before. All of a sudden our conversation along with the other superficial conversations trailed off and all attention was directed towards the valet entrance. Even the belligerent bachelorette party-ers standing in the guest list line paused and directed their attention. As she approached the huddle she stared straight at me and put her arms out to the side saying, ‘Come over here and give me a hug.’ I was frozen in admiration just like everyone else. I embraced her with a tight squeeze and left my hand to linger at the small of her back. She was absolutely stunning. That black dress was a perfect combination of sexy and classy. Her proclamation about growing up was not a lie. She had grown into a voluptuous and fit woman and was ‘wearing’ that dress.
“You look amazing! That dress is serious.” I complemented. She smiled.
“So you like it? I bought it today.”
“You went out and bought a dress today?”
“Yeah in the forum shops.”
“What? You’re crazy!”
“I figured I’m in Vegas I might as well take advantage.”
Vegas is a great place but people taking advantage of the amenities is often the problem with this town. Las Vegas is a place that is void of reality that people visit or relocate to in order to escape reality. Whatever your vice may be Vegas can offer it and that is what is so attractive about this town. The thing is that the gluttonous behavior doesn’t stop until the occurrence of some life altering experience.
“Well I’m glad you did.”
I escorted her inside the club getting looks of recognition from the VIP hosts and doormen. Everyone’s eyes meeting mine after examining her body undoubtedly being drawn in by her glamorous smile. I took her to the bar but she insisted that she buy me drinks. We danced and talked about old times as the drinks flowed. She told me how she was tired of pursuing a career as a makeup artist in the film industry and became a union campaign organizer. The hours were long and uninteresting but it payed the bills and this opportunity in Vegas was just what she needed. Vegas was a place where she could work hard during the week and have a complete escape on the weekends. She needed something different so she left her apartment in West Hollywood and headed out to Henderson, Nevada. This was her first night out in Vegas and she fully intended to let loose. We had planned to party it up then take a cab back to my place.
This was a night that we both had seemingly been waiting on for quite some time. She expressed the reason why things hadn’t gone further with us in college was because I was too much of a player at the time. Of course, I remember it differently. To my surprise she asked me if I was ready for something serious and moved my hands from her hips to her behind suggesting that this was more than just a hang out with an old friend. It was as if she was trying to sell me on how good of an opportunity this was by disclosing how many properties she was going to inherit and how I could manage them considering my business sense. I thought this was an awkward time to bring this up but I was sold on seeing where this could go even without the pseudo-dowry. Apparently she was really into me which was a surprise but even more of a surprise was how much she was into Kid Rock. So being a good potential boyfriend I took her over to the DJ booth. She snapped selfies with Kid Rock posing behind us. Her excitement prompted me to take her over to VIP so she could meet him once his set was over.
Club policy prevented me, as an employee, from going into VIP and hanging out with the performers so I had to ask my boss to take her in and introduce her. It was already around 2am so I told her to go have fun and we could meet up right in front of the club after 3am. She agreed and I had her follow my boss into the VIP. Now I’m sitting here in the lagoon scoping the door like a vulture just waiting for something to die. I’ve been here for about thirty minutes and I haven’t seen her walk out of the main exit. As groups of girls come out of the club my fellow promoters take off one by one until I’m left in the lagoon by myself.
It’s 4:30am and the club is closed. I have no missed calls on my phone and no new text messages. Where the heck could she be? I’ll call her again.
“Hi you’ve reached Angel. Leave me a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you...Beep.”
Damn, no answer. Maybe she’s outside in the valet line waiting for a cab. Nope. I walk to my car slowly hoping that I’ll run into her but no I don’t see her anywhere in the lobby. I’ll try her phone again. Straight to voicemail. Now I’m alarmed and wondering if her phone died or did she turn her phone off so I would stop calling. Maybe she met Kid Rock and he was taking advantage of the opportunity of a gorgeous fan gift wrapped in an expensive dress. I just gave him a layup. What an idiot!
‘Oh well I guess she can handle it, she’s a big girl.’
I hop in my car and do my post work ritual of grabbing an order of chili cheese tots and a strawberry limeade from Sonic on my way back down the 5 South. I nervously check my phone a few more times and turn the volume all the way up before falling asleep hoping that I’d get a call or a text to come pick her up. Still nothing.
In the morning I awake to no missed calls or new text messages. I call her phone again. Voicemail. Now I’m wondering at what point are you supposed to call the cops. Well at least let me check my Facebook before I get going for the day. To my surprise there’s a message from her in my inbox. The message simply read:
“Hey, how was last night?”
I thought that was pretty interesting considering she was the one who went missing. I replied.
“I should be asking you. It was great until we parted ways. What happened to you?”
“When did we part ways?”
“What do you mean? When? You couldn’t have been that drunk.”
“I don’t really remember. What happened last night?”
At first I was kind of shocked that what seemed like a reconnection of a budding romance turned into this but I had no idea what was to come. After I explained my recount of the evening she replied with:
“Okay I was just making sure you had nothing to do with what happened.”
I held my breath thinking about my whereabouts that night and if I had the proper evidence to clear me of any accusations. My repeated phone calls should do the trick but if that doesn’t it’s a good thing I stopped by SONIC Burger on the way home. I also thought about the endless possibilities of a wild Vegas night. Absolutely anything could have happened.
“I woke up naked in a hallway on some exclusive level of the Mirage next to a suite door. One of the cleaning ladies woke me up and put a blanket around me.”
It turned out she didn’t remember anything from that night and was suspicious that she might have been drugged & raped. Subsequently, she was filing a police report and getting tested for rape. I never found out what the results were from the rape kit nor did I find out who she ended up going home with that night. I didn’t bother to ask about the situation again, considering the night’s events as something that happens when those of us who are seeking to escape reality get a healthy dose of it. The possibilities of what could happen while you’re escaping your inhibitions became a reality that night. She moved to Texas a month later and we continued our friendship from a distance. I haven’t seen her since.
