There is only one reason why I would not want to go back to Las Vegas, Nevada ever again. You might be thinking that it must be something bad for someone not to want to go back to Sin City. I think after you hear my story, and you know how horrible my experience was, you will understand. Do not watch fights in Sin City.
It was a hot Thursday night in Phoenix, AZ when the excitement started to settle in. Just the smell of the airport was enough to make me want to scream with joy. The planes could not come quick enough as the cries of little infants were heard all throughout the terminal, making my heart pound even faster. As we sat there waiting for the plane to arrive, we saw your occasional weirdoes with dread locks dressed in the colors that should never even be worn together, in my opinion, Yellow, Red, and Green. Then we saw your casual business people dressed in blazers and ties. After what seemed like an eternity, the plane arrives and we board. I thought in my head, “This should be an easy flight, not too out of the ordinary. Smooth sailing to Las Vegas!” I was wrong. Before we even took off, someone mentioned there was a bomb in his bag, and the next thing I knew; rubber bullets were flying all over the place! Our plane ended up being grounded for another hour, which was a great way to start our trip.
Finally, when we got to Vegas, I thought the real fun and adventures would begin. I was right. Not even an hour after we landed, we witnessed our first fight between two prostitutes fighting over a corner. I am not talking about verbally fighting; I am talking about a physical altercation. Not intervening, my cousin and I decide to watch from afar, as these two women scrapped it out. 5 minutes into the fight, the cops showed up and put them both into pink handcuffs. My cousin and I decided the show was over, and we should head up to the hotel room and get some rest. The cops had a different idea. They accused me and my cousin of being pimps and...
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