Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas

Show You How - Part 1

The ER had calmed down by the time I clocked out. We had a steady flow of patients for the beginning of the evening and hit a frenzy around midnight, but things came to a screeching halt not long after that. Working in the ER guaranteed that you never had the same night twice –there were some nights where I was juggling more patients than was probably legal and didn’t have time to eat, and there were other nights when we would send someone on a McDonald’s run while Natalie tried to teach me how to crochet. Needless to say, I loved the nights where I got paid to make a fool of myself with crochet needles much more than the nights I came home with my lunch untouched.

Natalie waggled her fingers at me as I headed toward the door. “Are you working tomorrow?”

I shook my head. “I get the rest of the week off. This is my fourth night in row.”

“Oh, harsh,” she said with a grimace. “Wallow in your time off, girl! I’ll see you soon.”

The cool desert air washed over me as I walked through the automatic doors. I looked up at the night sky, but the lights from the Strip washed out any visible stars. Even at 3:00am, Las Vegas was bright and gaudy and raucous – a city that defied the clock.

My phone rang just as I reached my car, and I was surprised to see that it was Carmen. “Hello?”

“Hey! Am I calling at a bad time?”

“You’re not,” I assured her. “I actually just got off of work.”

“Ha! I knew it,” she said cheerfully. “How was your night?”

“Eh. It got busy, but nothing terribly bad.” I looked back at the harsh lights above the ER doors, squinting slightly due to their intensity against the inky sky. “More importantly, what are you doing up at this time?”        

I could practically hear the face she was making. “I just flew in on a red eye from Boston.”

“That sucks,” I said, unlocking my car and sliding behind wheel.

“It could have been worse – red eyes usually mean that no one is awake enough to be an asshole, and there were no babies, thank god. But now I’m wired. I’m not tired at all. Do you want to meet up for a bit?”

“Sure, but it’ll have to be at your place. I don’t want to wake Brandon up.”

“Awesome!” Even at this hour, her voice was bubbly and filled with an energy no caffeine could provide. “See you soon.”

Carmen lived closer to the hospital than I did, so ‘soon’ turned out to be just a few minutes. When she buzzed me up, she was still in her flight attendant uniform, and her tiny suitcase was open on the bed, various items slowly getting unpacked.

She grimaced when she saw me. “I didn’t realize you were still in scrubs,” she apologized. “I thought you would have a change of clothes on you.”      

I waved my hand. “These are probably more comfortable than what you’re wearing. Don’t worry about it.”

I sat down at a stool at the kitchen’s island while Carmen put on a kettle for tea. There was no denying that her apartment was tiny – two people made it feel cozy, but a third would make it cramped. She had a simple kitchen that was separated from her bedroom by the island I was sitting at. Her queen sized bed and nightstand were across from a flat screen television mounted on the wall. The door next to her bed led to a small closet, while the door on my left was the bathroom – a shower, no bathtub.

And yet, she had made the minimalism work for her. Despite being completely furnished from an Ikea catalogue, it was chic and modern; she made little touches like lamps and mirrors go a long way. It was a massive contrast to my house, but she didn’t need much. As a flight attendant, being home was an uncommon luxury.