When I was fourteen years old, I had the opportunity to perform at a school in Las Vegas when I was in my high school performing arts program. I was incredibly ecstatic. It was first time being in states other then Florida. We stayed at the marvelous Flamingo hotel. Everything about that hotel was amazing. I could just describe everything that was at the hotel, but that's another blog post.
On the third day, me and my friend Troy, one of the other students in the program who happened to be my hotel roommate, decided to go downstairs to buy some souvenirs. We've been working nonstop and never got a chance to take a break. That was my fault. I developed my workaholic ways very early. I felt bad for Troy and myself. So we decided it was time to go shopping.
Let me tell you something about Las Vegas. Everything about it is true. It is crazy expensive. We went to the gift shop and all I could find was this Las Vegas shirt for $100 dollars. To be honest, I didn't mind spending that much. I felt like I worked enough to splurge a little bit. I was a spoiled kid growing up. As the only child of two parents, I got almost anything I wanted. But later on in my teenage years, I did start making my own money. Because of that, I felt like I do whatever I want with my money, no matter how much I was spending.
Due to that, I used my debit card and bought the T-shirt.
Fast forward an hour later. I got this call from my cell phone from my mother and she is screaming and yelling at me in response to my spending. Both of our accounts were connected at the time. She could access whenever she felt like it in order to see what I doing with my money. There were moments when I had to keep the phone away from my ear and put it under the pillow because she was being ridiculous. She knows I don't like it when people cuss, and there she was on the other line, acting like one of those females on those ghetto reality shows.
I caved in and I returned the shirt. I gave them the receipt and they told me that they would transfer the money back to my account. That was six years ago and I didn't get my money back. I'm not upset. I make more than $100 nowadays. But when I look back at it, the only thing that disappoints me is my mother. If I knew Las Vegas wasn't going to pay me back, I could've at least kept the expensive shirt.
Now people wonder how they come up with those Hangover films. It's based on real life whether you like it or not.