I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been to Vegas—the first time was just after I’d graduated from college and my roommates and I decided to make a trip on the spur of the moment. We all piled into my friend’s boyfriend’s blue Ford pickup and hit the road—in those days, I could ride for hours in the back of a truck with no complaints. I think we might’ve brought blankets and pillows. Who knows? We had no plans (and no money) to rent a hotel for the night, so we intended to stay for a few hours and then drive back. I have no memory of what we did or where we went, but eventually, we made it home.

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