The City I Didn't Know I Loved

I took that picture within the first minute of my first shift at Mix. There's nothing really special about it - I failed in every sense of photography. No rule of thirds. Nothing the eye is specifically drawn to - it just is.

It was April Fools, well technically April 2 since my boss J had me do an overnight shift. Just for the first show, just to shake out the cobwebs. 

My heart raced as soon as Angie, the night girl, walked out the door. The lyrics to "Lose Yourself" by Eminem played on repeat through my mind as I wiped my sweaty palms across the front of my jeans every 10 minutes. I had brought a bag of almonds for dinner. I wouldn't eat any of them. In fact, I wouldn't eat while I was on-air until a whole month later.

“This is your one shot. Your one opportunity.
Mom’s spaghetti.”

The board, left in auto by Angie, flicked seamlessly between commercials, flashing a rainbow of colors from every corner. The commercials ended and music filled the studio. This was it. At the end of the song, I was going to be on-air in Las Vegas. Me! Little promo girl me from Anchorage, Alaska was going to talk to millions of people in Las Vegas in less than three minutes. 

I porked it. The break was awful, as was most of the show. I was a bundle of nerves. You know those people who, when put under pressure, score the the game-winning goal and lead the team to win the hard fought championship? Yeah, I did the opposite. 

Downtrodden, I left the studio. Well, it was fun while it lasted, I consoled myself the whole way home. Maybe they were right. Maybe I'm not "talent." Maybe I should just stay in my lane. Maybe Mix will still let me do promotions. I would be okay with that, I bargained with myself as I shut my eyes at 4 a.m., saying goodnight to my on-air dreams.

J called me the next day.

“So, how did it go?”

I held nothing back. I told him I was awful, ready to lay out a plan to where I could maybe do some dummy, non-live shows while I helped with the street team. J was silent. Here it comes, I thought. Finally he breaks the silence with a soft chuckle.

“Well, I guess it can only get better from here, huh? Don’t beat yourself up.”

And it did get better. A lot better. Just like my relationship with Vegas. I've been fairly vocal about Vegas just not being my kind of city - all dirt and sky. I was quick to judge, perceiving a lack of community and telling my friends how flashy and fake it was. Now looking back, I was wrong. So wrong, and it took a national tragedy for me to see how blind I had been this whole time. 

For the first time following October 1, I saw a community. I saw people selflessly helping each other, offering rides, shelter, anything they could do to help those who needed it most. I saw strangers become neighbors, embracing each other for comfort in our darkest hour. And then the Golden Knights happened. 

With a home opener just nine days later, they brought the community together for one of the most emotional openings I've ever seen, including a heart-wrenching 58 second moment of silence. At that moment, they started carrying the city. They kept this community together. They gave us the connection I didn't know could exist in a town known for The Strip. They reminded the world that we were a real city, with real people. They did more than just played hockey. They helped a city find its light again.

And from there it grew. It reminded me that we're all connected. I went from feeling like an outsider looking in to a part of the community. It was the little things, like wearing a Knights shirt in public and chanting "Go Knights Go!" with a complete stranger. Or waking up to texts saying "please stay." Or a barista taking an extra moment to ask about my day. 

I've always subscribed to the belief that it's not a place that's good, it's the people. This time I put my blinders on and refused to see it until now. Maybe I wanted to convince myself I didn't care. Maybe I didn't want to deal with the heartache this time around. But the truth is I do care about this city. Now looking back,  I know that Vegas was beautiful and I met so many people who have meant the world to me. People who were always there when I need them, who had my back through thick and thin. People who became my family. 

So once again here we are. Vegas, I didn't think it was going to happen, but you snuck in at the last moment and won my heart. And it should have been obvious I suppose because we all know that...

“The house always wins.”