I would love to be the kind of blogger who can start off a travel diary by saying, “Earlier this year, I booked a spontaneous trip to Las Vegas!” and make it sound totally normal. Like I’m the whimsical kind of girl who does this sort of thing all the time. “It was completely spur of the moment, tickets were cheap, and I thought – hey, why not! Let’s go to Vegas!”
“Hey, why not! Let’s go to Vegas!” is not something I’ve ever said in my entire life. I was whimsical for like, twenty minutes. The twenty minutes that it took for some woman on the phone to convince me that Vegas was all the rage. “Oh, you haven’t been to Vegas?!” She asked in a tone that suggested ‘eeeeeveryone’s been to Vegas!’. But, like, in a nice way? I don’t know. It was weird.
The woman calling me worked for the hotel chain that I frequently use when traveling for business trips (therefore they assumed that I would have the money to, like, travel). “Now is a GREAT time to come out to Las Vegas.” She said – (as if she would have called me to say, ‘You know, now is not such a great time’) – “We just opened up a BRAND NEW hotel on the strip. It’s a FIVE STAR resort situated next to Miracle Mile – so you can go SHOPPING” – because that’s how I pick my vacation spots? “or you can lay out by the POOL…” appealing to her audience here “with a DRINK…” – all things I could easily do at home, fo’ free. “And don’t forget about the CASINOS!” She added. “Maybe you could win some MONEY! Wouldn’t that be fun?!” ‘Wouldn’t that be fun?’ – like I’m really going to say, ‘no – winning money? Geez, that sounds awful.’
“I’m not much of a gambler,” I told her. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t think now is a good time.”
The end. Hang up. I studied Communications, I work in SALES management, I am a MASTER of persuasive strategy (I mean, not really, but I took a class on it once in college). I knew what this woman was doing. Trying to convince me to stay at her fancy hotel so that I could go SHOPPING and have a DRINK by the POOL. Please. She called the wrong loyalty program member.
“You don’t have to use it right now!” She said. “You can use it anytime. Six months, a year – It doesn’t matter!”
“I don’t have time for a vacation.”
“You’re saying you won’t have the time in a YEAR?”
Look – I’m not saying Vegas was at the BOTTOM of my bucket list, because it genuinely is some place that I’ve always wanted to see at least once – but, like, not spontaneously because some strange woman on the phone acts like she wants to go shopping with me. “You know, we’ve got a lot of great stuff going on this year,” she said. “A lot of great shows. Criss Angel is in town, Celine Dion, Cirque du Soleil…”
Cirque du Soleil. She was trying to sell me Vegas on Cirque du Soleil. Not that it isn’t a great show, I’m sure it is… it’s just… I don’t know. I don’t think that people go to Vegas JUST to see Cirque du Soleil.
“Britney Spears.” She said. She might have been grasping at straws, but whatever. “She’s still in town. Do you like Britney Spears?”
I bought a shirt once just because I saw Britney Spears wearing it in a Kohl’s advertisement. True story.
And I didn’t even really LIKE the shirt.
Granted, I was like fifteen at the time, but still. Here we are, over ten years later, and all it takes to get to me book a spontaneous trip to Las Vegas is twenty minutes and the mention of Britney Spears’ name. Sold.
Reality set in later. Not too much later – about thirty minutes after I hung up the phone. What did I just do? VEGAS? Someone called me from a random number asking me if I wanted to go to VEGAS and I gave them my credit card information? If that clown in the movie “IT” told me that Britney Spears was down there hiding in the sewer, I’d probably just crawl on down there.
This is how people get their identities stolen.
Correction – this is how STUPID people get their identities stolen. Regular people just get them stolen from a sneaky scanner at a gas pump or something.
I did not get my identity stolen. But as a general public service announcement – don’t be stupid. If someone calls you from a random number, don’t give them your credit card information. K? K.
Anyway, the anxious, cautious part of me who can’t plan a trip without first making a Pinterest board began to panic about thirty minutes later. Assuming I didn’t get my identity stolen – I can’t just go to VEGAS…? BY MYSELF? What am I supposed to do out there? Just wander around searching for Britney Spears? So I called my mom, canceled my credit card, and spent the next three months trying to get out of it.
I told them I couldn’t go, I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t have the time. I wanted my money back. Please and thank you.
I tried to get out of it. For THREE MONTHS I tried to get out of it.
But they wouldn’t let me out of it. They told me I could cancel the trip, but I wouldn’t get my money back. So I called my boyfriend and said, “Heeeey, wanna go to Vegas?” And he was like, “sure, why not”.
(It turns out, of the two of us, he is the more whimsical one. Who knew.)