Welcome to Vegas

Thudda-thudda-thudda.

The windows are shaking with the music. I'm on the 26th floor of this hotel – how can it still be this loud all the way up here?

Thudda. Thudda.

I roll over in bed, bury my face in the pillow. Shut up!

A car honks on the street. Another car honks in reply or riposte. Possibly it's the same car both times, giving it a two-for. These are the thoughts I have when I can't sleep.

The illuminated face of the bedside clock radio blinks sleepily at me. It looks vaguely mocking... but how can a dial conjure up any emotion at all? It's just my over-tired state.

A woman's drunkenly laughing in the hallway outside my room. Shut. Up.

Please.

Another car honks. I flip my pillow to get the cool side. Why is my hotel subjecting me this aural pollution? Don't they realise I'm jet-lagged?

Now I can hear someone singing in the hallway, off key. I don't recognise the song.

Welcome to Vegas.

Thudda-thudda-thudda.