Death and Professor Longfellow

Chapter 4: The Splendor of the Sin City

The professor had heard graduate students talk about going to Las Vegas for spring break. It was a popular destination for youths to make poor decisions.. Though asked to attend a National Education Conference almost a decade ago, Longfellow declined the invite. The only time Longfellow had been to Las Vegas was through the works of Hunter Thompson. The very name, Vegas, conjured images of neon lights sparkling in the star-struck eyes of milk-fed tourists. Ringing chatter of slot machines and blaring live bands drowned out intellect, as reason was washed away with drink after free drink. It was a perpetual twilight of dreams devoted to false idols lorded over by glamorous sequin-clad showmen and cocktail waitresses. The city itself was a fizzing drink full of sugary intoxication that only gave a wicked hangover. Or at least that's how the good professor always imagined it. The city was too full of sex and glamour for a man like Longfellow. The thought of the excessive lights, sound, and decadence made him wilt in his seat.

"We'll be there in a minute, my lamb."

"How'd we cross the country so quickly? Weren't we in New York a moment ago?"

"One of the many perks of being me is that time doesn't exist. Or maybe it does, but it just doesn't matter? Being Death might just feel like eternity." She yawned. "There's always work for me to do. Business is booming, but every now and then, I need to get away. Cities like Vegas are great, teeming with frothy energy that makes your heart race. Everyone here is glad to be alive, and they're going to make the rest of the world know it. Don't you agree, Robbie, my lamb?"

"I wouldn't know. I've never been here before."

"Oh, you've missed out, you poor thing."

"What would I have to miss?" They rolled onto the main strip with the most expensive and excessive casinos and hotels. Death's crimson sports car faded into the background, passing pyramids, castles, the Eiffel Tower, and Manhattan. Though the strip showcased some gaudy, cartoonish facades, nothing was as big as he'd imagined it. Longfellow always thought the buildings would resemble cages made of light stretching to the stars. Even the iconic "Welcome to Las Vegas" sign, made infamous by bumper stickers and postcards, was reasonably understated. "Wow, I always thought it would be bigger," he said.

"Feel that surprise right there-that little tingle behind your ears, telling you that you just discovered something new, which your preconceived prejudices lied to you about? That's something you would have missed. Thrilling, isn't it?" Death smirked.

"I'm just as comfortable staying home and reading or going to work."

"Robbie, Robbie, Robbie, vanilla ice cream is comfortable, and plain cheese pizza is comfortable. Every now and then, don't you want a little pepperoni or hot fudge?"

"In that order you sound as though you want pepperoni on ice cream or chocolate on pizza," Longfellow mused sadly.

"Mmmm, my mouth waters in anticipation," she growled. "If you've never tried it, how do you know that it wouldn't be delicious?"

"Common logic indicates that it wouldn't."

"It's not about logic. Nothing ventured, nothing to tell a story about the next day. The people that come here only to wake up the next morning in a ditch with their pockets empty and a buzzing headache still love the fact that they played the game." Death savored every word she spoke as if she were tasting a sumptuous feast.

"I suppose one should hope to come here, lose all his or her money, and become dangerously intoxicated because the siren's song is worth it?" Longfellow said with halfhearted sarcasm in the shadow of the dazzling lights.

"Where's your sense of adventure? Everyone will meet me eventually. When they do, what do you think they regret the most-the things they did or the things they never had a chance to?"