Vegas is one of the most exciting and active cities I’ve ever seen in my life—just not last night.
My neighborhood is full of restaurants, grocery stores, and other necessary businesses so everything is open and life seems normal except for all the people with face masks.
Las Vegas Boulevard just demonstrated how radically different things are during this disease. Where normally the streets are teeming with people, I was able to count on one hand the number of people on each block. Near the Bellagio fountains, the shoulder to shoulder crowd is absent. The fountains are still and all the attractions are dark.
Casinos are closed tight; wooden panels seal the doors and the driveways are blocked by fencing and police tape.
I swear that a pale, haggard face stared down at me in dismay from a window at the Flamingo but that couldn’t be right. The hotels are closed tight and nobody is supposed to be in there. Could someone have evaded hotel security and remained within when they sealed the building?
From the Excalibur all the way to the Strat hotel, silent buildings observe the few passers-by with vacant stares. I zipped over to Fremont Street, intending to stroll beneath the Fremont Street Experience but the entire walking mall beneath the canopy was closed off. A black dog, it must have been a Great Dane with gigantism because it was almost four feet at the shoulder, rooted in an overturned trash barrel amid the blowing papers in the empty plaza.
Some cunning wit spray-painted the side of a building a block away with a timely slogan: “They use fear to control.”
Preach it, brother, I know I’m starting to feel the fear hovering over these deserted streets.
Two Hispanic men, dressed in their Sunday finest stood on a street corner as I drove home. They had homemade signs on neon green paper. The signs must have been five feet wide each.
One sign said, “These are the times prophesied. Jesus comes amid portents and signs. Prepare the way.”
The second was much more succinct, “The end is nigh.”
I knew it was only a matter of time before the doomsday wackos arrived but now that they’ve appeared I don’t know whether to laugh or shiver in fear.
The local news said that masks are now in short supply in town; I guess I waited too long to worry about that. I have a leather half-mask for when I ride my bike, maybe I can line it with some cloth.
Sirens are a non-stop soundtrack in the streets near my house. I don’t know if they’re responding to accidents or gathering in more of the infected.
Every channel repeats the same warnings about contagion preparedness, it’s becoming mind-numbing. I stepped outside for a bit to look at the moon and forget my woes but my peace was shattered by the sound of deep racking coughs from my neighbor’s house. I’m not ashamed to say that I retreated into my home.
Around 2 AM, I woke to a loud growling. It was so loud that I thought it must be a stereo blaring from a neighbor. The walls vibrated from the noise but when I sprang from the bed and looked outside everything was quiet and still. I think that the tension of my waking life is starting to take over my dreams.
Tomorrow I’m going to have to go out and be productive. With my shirt shop closed, I have no income and I need a way to buy food. I’m going to sign into a delivery app and do some food and grocery deliveries. It’s not a lot of money, about eight dollars per delivery, but it’s better than nothing.
I’m going to try to go back to sleep. Hopefully no more growling beasts or coughing neighbors disturb me.
I’ll talk to you all tomorrow.
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Stay safe. Stay healthy, this is Joey saying goodnight for now.
