Last weekend, my mom treated Brian and I for our birthdays with a trip to Vegas to see the Michael Jackson ONE Cirque du Soleil!!
I’ve been obsessed with Michael Jackson since I was about seven-years-old.
I would watch a certain “making-of-Thriller” video non-stop.
In second grade, I wrote a report about him during Black History Month.
I practically know everything there is to know about the man. I wish I was kidding.
For my 21st birthday, Cory and I took a trip to Vegas. The plan was to see the Beatles’ cirque (because I’m obsessed with them as well.)
Because we’re not huge gamblers, we spent much of our first day walking the strip, popping in and out of the hotels. But it was at Caesar’s Palace where my life practically changed.
hint: this was not the moment
We were walking by this furniture store that I happened to notice from a Michael Jackson 20/20 special.
Oh my God, Cory! Michael Jackson shops here like, all.the.time! We need to go in and breathe the same air as he has.
Cory, slightly nervous he had taken a psychotic girl to Vegas, was less than thrilled. As we approached the doors, I was overcome with disappointment, as the store was “closed for maintenance.”
Cory was the one to notice that a security guard was standing outside the doors, and made the assumption that a celebrity was doing some shopping. I was crushed.
I stood there looking through the windows, longingly; but as we were about to turn to leave, I saw two masked children run around from behind a corner.
My heart stopped.
Following the children was the one and only Michael Jackson.
There were no crowds. No fuss. No cameras. Nothing. Just me making eye contact with Michael fucking Jackson.
It was the most magical few seconds ever.
So, yeah, I do consider Vegas to be “our” spot. And even though I never got to ask Michael, I’m sure he did, too