A name pops into my head. It sounds wild, conjures up notions of debauchery and sin and crazy hijinks.
Las Vegas.
Maybe I’ll gamble. See a show. Shoot, maybe I’ll evendrink.
My folks aren’t teetotalers, but drunkenness is a big no-no. So, I’ve never been drunk.
It feels settled. Las Vegas it is.
I slug back the last of my coffee, pack up the camp stove and my French press, close the hatch, and head out. South and west, now.
Destination: Sin City.
* * *
One week Later;Las Vegas
I tookmy time getting here. Stopped in a cute little town in the southwest corner of Wyoming and worked a few days on a real-deal cattle ranch, helping bale hay, something I’ve done plenty seeing as my grandparents own a farm and I spent summers there as a kid, baling hay, stacking it in the hay barn, throwing it around for the cattle and the horses.
I ate real good, on that ranch. Liked it there, too, but it’s still too close to what I grew up in, and I’m after something new. I just don’t know what it is, yet.
So here I am, the freedom panels off the Wrangler and stacked in the back over top of my stuff, my hair pulled back through a Tar Heels ball cap I stole off Angus, a local classic rock station blasting loud enough to hurt my ears; once I left my hometown and drove out of range of the Christian station, I started branching out and listening to other kinds of music for the first time ever. So far, classic rock is my jam.
I’ve got not a single clue what I’m gonna do here. I can’t camp out, that’s for sure. But, I figure I’ll figure it out as I go. That’s what all this post-divorce road trip adventure is all about, after all.
First, I just roll up the Strip, slow, rubbernecking.
Then, I get myself nice and lost, doing circles around the Strip until I’ve got a decent handle on the layout.
Finally, I find a cute little diner way, way off the Strip, where I hope the prices won’t be gouge-your-eyeballs-out astronomical. I go big—order a burger and friesanda milkshake. I know sure as Moses parted the Red Sea, this meal is gonna go straight to my booty…which the good Lord seemed to see fit to bestow upon an extra portion or two. And that’saftera year of CrossFit five times a week.
But heck, I’m on an adventure. I’ll worry about the renewed heft of my backside later, once I’ve figured out what on God’s good earth I’m gonna do with my life.
For now, I enjoy the juicy burger, crisp steak fries, and cold, creamy, chocolatey shake. The waitress is a lifer, a type I’ve come to recognize in my weeks on the road. She’s short, wiry, could be anywhere from an old forty to a young sixty, calls mehon, and I can tell she’s taken a shine to me since judging by the other orders she brings out, she gave me an extra helping of fries.
Bless her, Lord.
She comes by, smacking gum, bleach-blond/gray hair in a swinging pony, smelling of cigarette smoke. “What else ya need, hon?”
“Somewhere safe and cheap for a single girl to stay,” I say.
She thinks a moment, and then makes a recommendation, writing the address down on an order pad. “My cousin runs it. Ask for Shelly, and tell her Lisa sent you. She’ll look after you. Ain’t the best, but…it’s somethin’.”
I give her a big grin with my thank you, and a bigger tip. I’m halfway out the door when a thought occurs to me, and I head back in, to where Lisa is waiting for an order at the window. “Lisa? I also could use a job. Temporary, probably. Just something to make a few bucks.”
Lisa pops her gum, checks her order pad against the plates in the window, then glances at me as she balances three plates on one arm and another in her off-hand. “Yeah, I got something for ya, hon. Hold on, lemme drop these.”
She delivers the food and comes back, scribbling on her pad. “Be at this address tomorrow morning at eight. Wear good shoes, and clothes you don’t mind getting dirty.”
“What’s the job?” I ask.
“Me and my other cousin, we run a cleaning company. We always need girls. Pay ya fifteen bucks an hour cash, and we provide all the supplies. Just show up and be ready to work till you drop.”
I take the slip from her. “Thank yousomuch, Lisa. You’re a real lifesaver, you know?”
“We girls gotta look out for each other.” She grins at me, then pops her gum, hustles away to check on a table, and returns back to the window.
“NEED FRIES ON THE FLY, HECTOR!” she bellows, louder than I’d have thought her raspy voice capable of, then back to me. “Do well cleaning, I might be able to get you a full-time spot somewhere, if you stick around. I got a mess of cousins, and I know everybody in this town.”
