I've described Las Vegas many ways, but this one sentence at the end of chapter 34 in Sin City by Harold Robbins easily encapsulates everything I've written about it:
I loved Vegas. It allowed people to be themselves.
You can truly be anyone you want to be in Las Vegas. If you're moving there, you can reinvent yourself. If you're staying for a few days, you can find your pleasures (it's always plural in Vegas) in a reasonable amount of time. Whatever you want, you can have it. It can be found somewhere. Now, that may not seem like people being themselves, but in Las Vegas, you can tap into your true nature, what you've always wanted to be but perhaps can't where you live or in the job that you do. Who you truly are is what Las Vegas wants.
That sentence reminded me of the title of Marc Cooper's book about Las Vegas: The Last Honest Place in America. It truly is. I know it.
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