The sweet smells of fresh pasta and gourmet sauces poured over the waist high barriers separating Tre Visi from the rest of the restaurant hall. As I made my way to the staff lounge I was reminded of the big fight tonight. Every seat in the MGM Grand Arena was sold out. June 28, 1997: Evander Holyvield VS Mike Tyson, I’d seen the posters everywhere for the past 2 weeks. Tonight was going to be the biggest fight in decades, with stars like Whitney Huston, Micheal Jackson and Tupac paying unimaginable amounts of money for quality seating. My mind was cleared as I put my purse in my polished white locker like clockwork. I tied my hair back and changed into my uniform, black pants and a white button up with the most hideous purple suspender. I started my shift like any other day, serving complex orders from a menu with no prices to our high class, oddly Mafia-esk clientele. Getting by without the condescending butt pinch paired with low snickers from the accompanying table. As dinner passed more and more consumers left to watch the fight start until it was completely vacant. I sat and chatted with the only other female server, wondering who would win. This was supposed to be Mike Tyson's big comeback. Will he pull it off? Without TVs in Tre Visi I would have to wait for it to end before I knew.

“Is it repeat for Holyfield, or Revenge for Tyson. Can Holyfield be as good again, Can Tyson reignite the old flames” The round one bell rings throughout the arena, ”The rematch we’ve been waiting to see” Holyfield continues to clinch with Tyson, hitting him with mean right hooks when they would break apart. The stadium is filled with chants of “Holyfield, Holyfield'' as round one ends. 20 seconds into round 2, as Holyfield attempts to swing a left hook, they indeliberately clash heads. This caused a 3 inch cut on Tyson's right orbital. The round continues, ferocious strikes coming from both competitors. Round 2 ends. “It looked to be bleeding quite a bit. Now you hear a little yelp as they push to close that cut.” Tyson comes out with a fury of blows as round 3 starts, and watches Holyfield eat punch after punch. With 40 seconds left, hoping to turn the tide in any way he can, Tyson sinks his teeth into Holyfield's right ear after getting in a clinch. Spitting out the small piece with fire in his eyes as Holyfield leaps in pain. After some medical attention the round is continued with a 1 point deduction to Tyson. The round comes to an end after a small second bite on the left ear. Seeing the slow mo now the crowd is furious. The ring is swarmed with people and a fight breaks out. Chaos ensues and Tyson is disqualified by referee Mills Lane. Champagne bottles and gunfire confuse security and police as the crowd rushes to escape. Tupac and his crew face off against a rival crew. Pandemonium

I sat relaxed as I looked up at the clock in the calm restaurant hall. There should still be another 20 minutes before we have customers again. Then I hear it, a low rumbling coming from the main hall of The MGM Grand Arena. Accompanied by loud muffled bangs that made my heart skip a beat. I stared in awe for a second as a tidal wave of screaming people pushed through the double doors. Pure panic driving them forward, trampling over others. Security figures rushed to try and control the crowd but it was no use. My coworkers and I pressed against the back of the restaurant under a table. People were pushed over the barriers into Tre Visi in waves. It was one of the only times that I didn’t know if I was going to make it out alive.

As quickly as it began, it ended. The lights had gone out, leaving only the low shine of the emergency lighting. There was a security guard in front of every restaurant entrance. The cops didn't know what was going on, and they wouldn’t let me leave. The strangest silence hung over the restaurant hall as we waited. Nothing moved. My heart was still pounding in my chest as I tried to collect my thoughts on what was safe. I stood by the entrance comforted by the company of our security. Then, down the hall, Two massive white tigers were lopping down the hallways. I had seen Siegfried and Roy white tigers here before, but never like this. Not a handler in sight. You could see the braggadocio in their strut, they knew they weren’t supposed to be there. The security guard’s eyes were wide as dinner plates.

“There are big animals over here,” He choked out into his radio as he slowly backed behind the barrier. The tigers passed and I continued to wait. We were not allowed to leave until 4 hours later when it was 3 in the morning. I’d never felt so happy to fall into bed as I did that night.