Las Vegas (part 3): The First Week

My brother backed his truck in the drive.  I hopped out and grabbed my bags ready to settle in, check out his home, and just relax or whatever people do after five and a half hours of security, airports, airplanes, and turbulence.  My brother works out of his home and my first surprise came right after stepping out of the truck.  I set my bags down in the drive-way and we got to work right away.  I cannot remember what we were doing at this point, it did not matter.  We worked and he spoke to me with an urgency that I did not understand.

In the house I finally put my bags down, but never really felt like I got settled in.  My brother did not show me around the house; it was not necessary, but it is so customary that I was kind of expecting it.  I finally got a chance to relax; taking a seat on the couch, my brother invited me to watch television.  Since, I do not have television at my place in Kentucky, I told him I do not really watch television and then I just sat there for a moment letting my brain catch-up with my body.

Nothing else worth recalling happened that first night.  The kids were shy; I was almost a stranger, except Maxson did not think so.  I am not sure if he remembered me from Christmas or he is just not shy like his sisters, but he was hugging all over me.  His speech is almost indecipherable, but his actions said, “Hi! You are a friend.”  Aunt Kate (my little sister) was also here.  She is a regular to these parts and the girls will tell:  she is pretty cool.  She got most of the attention and that was fine by me.

In the morning I awoke before everyone else and took care of some chores.  My brother asked me to pick up the dog poop from the back yard and to water his plants.  Waking up early seemed easy; I had been waking up at the same time for two months.  Only now I was two timezones away and that time came two hours earlier!  It was going to be a busy day, my brother had two customers, we were going to go to church, and the big shocker my brother was getting on a plane to Miami.  He would be gone for a week!  Nobody told me about this (I did not mention his wife was in Bolivia).

Taking my shower, to get ready for church, I noticed something strange.  I am not quite sure what to make of it since no one briefed me on the proper showering procedure.  In my brother’s shower there is a squeegee.  I have used it a few times after a shower to squeegee the shower doors and walls.  I am not sure if I am supposed to or if they just happen to have a squeegee in the shower.  That is something you really should tell people.  I guess one day I will figure it out, but until then the question is to squeegee or not to squeegee?

We missed most of church, with Miller kids I have learned you will be late for almost anything.  My brother and I left church early so we were there all of thirty minutes.  The deliveries that day were easy though, nothing big, no difficult set-ups.  Before I knew it my brother was on the airplane bound for Miami.  It was me and my sister and three kids that hardly knew me.  My family has communication problems; I did not know he was leaving for Miami until the day before or maybe the day of (he did not tell me before I got here).  I was left thinking, "Is this what I signed up for?"  The next day Alba or Elba came to babysit/housekeep/hang out (confirmed as Elba the El Salvadorian Nanny).  I am not really sure, since she knows as much English as I know Spanish.  My sister knows a little Spanish, but she said she was as lost as I was.  Elba also had someone drop off another kid so there were four and outside of a list of tasks that my brother gave me, the only thing we did was hang with the kids and watch Nickelodeon.  Victorious is now my favorite television show, sadly.  This is followed by iCarly, but I do not like that nearly as much.  These two shows is about all that we watched on television the whole week.

I did some driving around.  Not joy-riding mind you, but I had to go some places for my brother.  Driving down Sunset road is pretty cool, McCarran International is basically right beside Sunset and there is a run-way that is parallel to the road.  On a clear day, one can look down the road and see four planes coming in at a time.  The planes do not really stop; anytime I am outside I can look up and see a plane flying by.  It is kind of cool to think about.  There is even a little parking lot beside the air strip people can park and watch the planes (of course it reminds me of a movie).  Incidentally I found myself on the strip one day, but I have been here before so it was not really a big thing.  The mountains are different.  I have seen them before, but it is still so strange to me having all these mountains around.  The mountains back at home are in Eastern Kentucky and I have not really been there, so it is mostly just hills that I am used to.  Plus these are desert mountains the rocks themselves are visible on the horizon and they are not covered over with vegetation.

My brother ended up going to Honduras from Miami.  That meant working without him over the weekend, but fortunately for me he has this guy named Jose help him that knows pretty much everything about the business.  I did what he said and we got everything done without any issue. All in all, I think I got more than I bargained for in the first week.  I found out first-hand what I signed up for.  Had a few surprises and had my eyes opened.  Next week could not possibly have this much in store for me.

Las Vegas (part 2): The Flight

On July 7, 2012 I boarded a plane in Nashville, TN that would get me to Las Vegas, NV with a lay-over in Atlanta, GA.  I started writing this last Sunday (July 15^th), but as with all other writing assignments, that did not exactly go as planned.  In fact, I got so little done before saving and quitting that I am starting over right now as I work on my laptop without internet access.  I did, however, think a lot about what I wanted to write so hopefully I can regurgitate that now.

Most people just wisely sleep away those hours that would otherwise be lost during a flight.  Not me; I guess one might say that it is the perfect time to let my mind run wild.  There is so much available for consumption:  business persons, flight attendants, tourists, vacationers, and just people; all those people living interesting and intriguing lives; that could be me, if only I could be interesting.  I should probably remind myself it is all just imaginary; that glimpse I give myself it is only a fantasy.  Of course that is the problem with fantasy, it is unrealistic by nature.

This trip marks only the second time I have ever been on a plane.  Sadly, the only other time I have been on a plane was also to fly here, to Vegas, when my brother got married.  This is where I could pretend to be macho and say flying is no big thing, but I am not macho and it is a pretty amazingly big thing.  First of all, it is amazing to think those giant metal tubes actually get off the ground.  It is a little bit of a surreal experience:  me being in one of those big jets, which I could never fully tell you about; nevertheless I will bore you with far too many details in the attempt to achieve the impossible.

Nashville to Atlanta was on a smaller aircraft.  I was in the ninth row.  Just guessing there were probably about 2x as many rows behind me as there were in-front.  I had the window seat and in the aisle seat was some guy that appeared to be having a bad day.  It made for a very uncomfortable flight.  I am not sure if his disapproving sighs and scoffs were intended for me or not, but my high level of self-consciousness would allow no other explanation.  I spent the entire flight focused on limiting my behavior to the bare minimum.  I squeezed myself into the smallest space I could and held that position; careful not to use the arm rest, allowing him to claim it if he desired (he never did).  I attempted to refrain from any behavior that might be deemed annoying; if I could have stopped breathing, I would have.  This probably sounds silly to most people, but it cannot be helped.  Honestly, I hate it; however, I cannot ignore it.  I can pretend like I do not care, but then I must deal with the regret associated with that attitude.  These regrets are the kinds of things that linger; I would rather deal with temporary discomfort than live with the continuous playback associated with a moment of regret (like incidentally brushing up against someone, or hogging an arm rest).  Shuddap, I know!  I am a mess.

I do not know if the second leg of the journey was better or worse.  I was in a better state of mind, since I was not so concerned with my impact on the person (or people) next to me.  This was a bit of a relief until it allowed me to focus on the giant metal tube that we were floating in and everything that might go wrong in that situation.  I would not say I am afraid of flying though.  It is not exactly a fear of death either; oddly it is deeper than that.  In the grand scheme of things we all have only a limited time to make an impact on the world.  One hopes to grow old with that time and find meaning.  Some grow old, never achieving meaning.  Still others pass before their time.  An accident such as a plane crash would strip my life of the opportunity to grow old and find meaning.  However, to exchange one life in the service of another is the greatest meaning a life could have.  But, here I am with this death talk; honestly, it was not that bad.  My palms got sweaty after I did all that thinking about plane crashes, cabin pressure, hijackings, and some awesome movie plots.  I also had to remind myself that no matter how many times one watches the Matrix, it is still impossible to learn to fly an aircraft on a moment’s notice.

Since all that fills my head now is on the subject of movies, I must also say:  the flight attendant reminded me of Catherine Zeta-Jones in The Terminal.  I am not sure if that is to the flight attendant’s credit for being beautiful or to the actress herself for imitating reality so well.  Perhaps it was purely a subconscious association between fantasy and the movie.  Picturing myself as the hero, Mr. Hanks’ character, ultimately there was nothing neither he nor I could do to win over the woman’s heart.  In the end everything unfolded as it should. I walked away just another individual among the many she comes across in a day and here I am two weeks later recollecting her beautiful smile and incredible enthusiasm; hoping she has someone out there that can tell her how much she is appreciated.  Why can’t my story be more like Elizabethtown?  Kirsten Dunst is cute and her character in that movie is so lovable.  Perhaps it has something to do with me not being Orlando Bloom.

At 5:22 the plane had landed in Vegas.  Soon all these crazy thoughts I had been having would finally be confirmed as wild fantasies.  By 5:37 I was in my brother’s truck, Kirsten Dunst had not given me her number or directions for that matter.  Before 6:00 I would be at the house, a place I had never been and never thought of calling home until now.  I had no idea what was in store for me, but at least I had finally made it.

Las Vegas (part 1): The Decision

I had several misconceptions about what I was getting myself into.  In all honesty though, I did not know what else to do.  I was struggling: in school, in life, and at working.  I quit my last real job (minimum wage, Shift Leader position, at a corporate owned Subway Franchisee) almost a year ago.  I was working at a mattress store for my younger brother when they needed an extra body for deliveries, but that was hardly a job.  I constantly forget to consider it a job myself (seriously what did I do for a year)!  Somewhere around May, the mattress store stopped calling me.  I thought it was strange they had gotten so slow, but eventually I would find out the owner hired his best friend and they did not need me anymore.  I was taking out maximum student loans; however, my grades were not good enough to suggest I spent most my day not working at my “hardly a job” and focused on school.  I did do some job searching, but I was far more selective than when I got the job at Subway.  I was hoping to get something that generated valuable experience, but even then I filled out some desperation applications.  I did everything, but ask for my old job back.  I did think about it though and even joked about it on a former co-workers facebook wall hoping he might take the joke seriously and bring it up with the manager or something.

I really think that was my big problem:  I did not know what I wanted enough to go out and find it.  I would have done anything, but really only wanted something that would give me experience.  Experience in what though, that is the question, Marketing is so broad and Psychology? Sales, advertising, strategic marketing, I/O psychology, human resources, research data entry!?!?  I do not know, that is why after I got a call from someone that saw my resume online, I pursued the opportunity.  Two “interviews” in Nashville took a toll on my empty wallet and unless I could start making cash immediately it did not look like I would be able to make it to work!  I walked away from that opportunity and I still wonder if that was the right decision; nobody else even called me for an interview.

In a lot of ways, I needed change.  My only plan for the last 5 years had been to get a degree.  Then after three years that began to get a little difficult and everything else just seemed to crumble around me.  If the last 2 years have taught me anything it is that I am not a good student and I could not just keep going to school.  For fall semester, I took two classes I actually needed and four classes that I just decided I wanted to take.  After that semester, I only need a passing grade in one class.  This is not me giving up, but I never heard anything sound that simple before that seems so incredibly impossible at the same time.  I have to take a break from University; perhaps it will be simpler after a little bit of change.

The plan I came up with in my head was to finish up what schooling I was enrolled in, come out to Vegas and help my brother, eventually take the business back to Kentucky (where most of our family is), then one day pick a city and start the same business there.  Once again, I was blind to reality for all the fantasy my mind creates.  I led myself to imagine the business was constantly booming and that I would be able to work frequently for my brother and make a lot of money in a fairly short amount of time.  The reality is my brother might work a lot from April to June, but even from April-June his peak business days are Friday to Sunday.  Also I found out that just because his business sounds easy, does not make it so.  It is a lot more work than I realized.