Personal Narrative Essay: My Trip To Las Vegas

1195 Words3 Pages

Old people have always broken my heart. I think this sympathy and love for the elderly stems from the deep affection I had for my great grandparents. They were the center of our tight knit family and always come to mind when I see an elderly person, which then reminds me how much I miss them. This was especially true on my recent trip to Las Vegas.
Prior to my trip, I did not know that Las Vegas has one of the fastest growing retirement communities in the nation, drawing this older generation to glitz, glamour, and gaming. Truth be told, the glitz, glamour, and gaming is what made this trip especially appealing to me as well. I anticipated seeing the lights, the stunning shows, and the beautifully diverse people from all walks of
I was underwhelmed. I had just walked through the lobby of Caesar’s Palace, picturing the case of The Hangover checking in at the front desk. Being a good sport, I decided to humor my grandmother and mother who were determined to feed the greedy slot machines. My mother stating, “We need to play the older machines because they don’t get much action. We are sure to win!” I have to admit I was not super excited, as I thought that this was going to be a tremendous waste of time. My mind was set on mixing it up with people dressed up and dancing in front of the live bands outside of this ancient casino. As my mother began playing an older slot machine, I absentmindly began to examine the crowd around me. I was struck by an overwhelming sadness. My excitement for dancing quickly evaporated as I observed, what appeared to be, lonely and desperate senior citizens mechanically and blankly feeding these noisy machines in hopes of striking it rich. I tried to picture my great grandparents sitting in that seat and a knot in my stomach began to form. These were not just faceless people. These were someone’s parents, grandparents, sisters, or brothers. I would like to think someone loved these people at some point. So, I pondered, “What happened?” “What is their story?” “What was the journey that brought them to perch on the torn, vinyl, barrel
I try to imagine the life these people lived prior to gambling. I wonder if their happiness was cut short by suffering the heartbreak of divorce or the devastation of losing a child. Perhaps some are suffering from trauma from going to war or battling a terminal illness. The causes of their plight are countless to be sure. If I tell people that a trip to Las Vegas changed my perspective and deepened my understanding of others, they think I am kidding, but it is true. I feel I have a responsibility to act when I feel compelled by that knot in my stomach or a tug at my heart. Instead of ignoring the prompting, I want to take the time to reach out to those in need. The lesson here is simple: While empathizing with others is worthwhile, it is not truly valuable until action is taken in

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