Prior to the Vegas fiasco told below, there was another Vegas trip. This is the one that started me down that nasty road to gambling. It all started innocent enough. I had never been even remotely interested in gambling till I**** and I hooked up. It had been love at first site, from the moment we waved to each other across a grassy knoll at the University of South Carolina. She all smiley with legs up to here, me with curly electric hair. I was struck dumb with fireworks going off inside.
We were both heading to Arizona, me in April, her in May, visiting our mutual friend A****. Sure enough, I made it out there first, even had a fling with A****, one of the most giving people I would ever meet. The sex was great and after a month of hanging out and traveling all over the soutwest, A**** and I became pretty close. Then I**** showed up.
The fireworks were immediate. A tryst was inevitable. And so on one hot Arizona afternoon while A**** was at work, I**** and I joined ourselves, bodies and souls. No man would ever pull us assunder...Only our own frailties could do that. The three of us shared a bed, for a while, nothing sexual. Then A**** and I**** had a talk and from then on it was just I**** and I with A**** being a very loving foil for both of us. We lived happily, we three, we did lots of artsy/craftsy things. I made fresh fruit pies. We tooled around Arizona in A****'s yellow MGB-GT, all the while I**** and I screwing like bunnies.
Oh, yeah...the Vegas trip. Well It was I****'s idea. She had been before and had a great time. She thought I would get a big kick out of it. A**** told us to take the MG. On a Friday night we drove from Flagstaff to Winslow to Kingman to Boulder Dam and then down into the blazing Vegas Valley of 1972. It was around midnight but Downtown was as bright as high noon! I had never seen anything like it.
We found a cheap hotel, not a casino hotel, like Binions or Four Queens. Remember there was no Bellagio or Paris Las Vegas or New York, New York back then, Just the Downtown. There was the Flamingo and Ceasar's and the old Desert Inn on the strip. We went to the Four Queens, changed our dollars to nickels and headed for the slots. As much as I like to blame my problems ons on others, as much as I would like to hang this albatross around I****'s neck...this nasty, scummy life ruining plague was born full blown at the first jangle of coins in the hopper.