The Worst Attraction in Las Vegas
There are plenty of sub-par destinations in Las Vegas. Creepy buffets. Smoky casinos. Fully-clothed all-male revues.
And then there’s the haunted house at Madame Tussaud’s.
On our second trip to Madame Tussaud’s, my friends Beth and Lisa and I decided to try the Screamo room — Madame Tussaud’s haunted house. Never mind that we don’t like scary things. Never mind that Beth and I once ran screaming out of a Nicolas Cage movie.
How bad could it be? It was just a wax museum!
The three of us lined up, tightly digging our arms around each other, before marching in together.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Beth muttered.
Then the first monster jumped out, covered in rags and makeup.
We screamed bloody murder. Ten seconds later, we were still wailing. The monster stopped moving.
He wiggled his fingers at us. “Keep moving.”
“Wait, what?” we asked in unison.
Thirty seconds later, we were shrieking again.
“PLEASE just let us GO!” I cried. “I’m serious. We’re done here. Just let us get out of here. PLEASE.” Lisa was praying out loud. Beth was cutting off circulation in my shoulder.
By the time we left the haunted house, we were messes. We had also, among other things, accused the monster of sexual harassment for grazing one of my toes.
And then, miraculously we burst into the light. Collapsing outside that terrifying haunted house was a joy the likes of which I’ll never know again.
Alexa and Jen, the only sane girls in our group, mocked us and gleefully took pictures. SMART WOMEN.
Beth’s expression says it all: “DON’T GO!”
The point of this story? Go to Madame Tussaud’s. It’s a lot of fun. But do not go to the haunted house. It features real people jumping out, yelling at you and grazing your toes!