Las Vegas-- Beyond the Lights!

Queen of Tease

2008-03-15T08:13:00.000-07:00

As Patricia and I were getting ready to go out, maybe a walk down the Strip, Patricia's sister Pudgy called. She wanted to know how we were enjoying ourselves in "Sin City." Oh, we assured her that we were having a great time, didn't tell her though that we hadn't slept in 48 hours and that we'd been drinking around the clock, well, two clocks to be more precise.

Pudgy, the "Queen of Tease," yes, surely she is I thought as I fell victim to her quick jibes that very first day I met her. It was first at the Church, then at her house. It was her second son Anthony's Christening. After me and Patricia drank all night the night before, there we were, the spectacle. Oh, how I remember Pudgy saying: "So Trish, I see you and your new boyfriend here thought that you were going to a Polish wedding instead of my son's Christening." Though she may have been trying to be a bit comical, you could see that she wasn't too happy that we'd shown up at the church still drunk. After surviving the church, and then at Pudgy's house, me and Patricia still managed a few more good drinks, compliments of Mike Cardella, Pudgy's husband. He was pretty cool I thought. With his long hair and marijuana-scented disposition I figured he, too, enjoyed partying.

As the afternoon furthered into the evening, Pudgy let it out. A rat-a-tat barrage of insults hurled at me, though she was being her comedienne self, she let me know that she still wasn't too happy with me making my first impression a rather clouded one, suffused with alcohol and possibly a "who cares" kind of attitude.

It would take a few more meetings before Pudgy resigned to liking me. She realized I, too, was a bit quick with the wit and that I really had some intelligence. And it wouldn't be long before I looked up to her as I would a sister. I felt we really had a lot in common; she was the third child, I was the third child; her birthday was March 19, mine September 13. If you put 319 in the mirror, you'd see that it reflected back to you 913.

Me and Pudgy had a special connection, this I realized and after watching her perform on stage a few times I knew that she was the inspiration I surely needed. I was then, still quite the introvert and by watching her so comfortably, easily working the crowd, I figured I could someday do the same....

Welcome to Las Vegas - Day 1

2008-02-22T08:03:00.000-08:00

The Imperial Palace,
right in the middle of the strip, a perfect location to set up camp for the next four glorious days and nights. Ah, so far, heaven this place -- the excitement, and ah yes, the weather. Only the first week of May, but the sun, so very nice, beating hard upon my winter-weathered body, face. Ghostly and wan from months of winter, I was ready for a change, a quick tan, a new look. I always thought that I'd looked better with a tan, handsome, maybe not a matinée idol type of handsome but handsome enough to have attracted a fair share of pretty girls in my still young life. I've had my share of girlfriends, a few I really thought I loved but maybe my ideas of love were misguided by an overwhelming sense of need and too much alcohol. To love, one must truly feel, and how can one really feel when numbed by bouts of alcohol and binges of insecurity?

Before I met Patricia, my companion, my traveling partner I was alone-- my last real girlfriend bolted after she had walked in on me while in the arms of a curvy pick-me-up I had found sitting lonely in another cheap bar in a cheaper part of town and who I decided to bring home, to see my collection of old records of course.

Though I thought I loved Katie, perhaps she, too, was nothing more than a security blanket or a temporary reprieve from abject loneliness. Out went Katie, came in Patricia, a lady who had experience, a bit of sophistication, she was for goodness sake, more than ten years my senior. She could probably teach me a few things, I thought that first day as we sat in the middle of the park sharing a few sniffers of vodka and a couple of songs that were playing out on her little boom box.

I was glad that Patricia took me up on the offer to finally try out Vegas.

Patricia and I checked into our room, a nice room, with two double beds in which we quickly put together to make one large California King, for we would need the space to indulge in our calisthenics and wine-enriched athleticism.

The Beginning - Part II: Arrival

2008-02-12T00:32:00.001-08:00

May 6, 1990...Touchdown

"Welcome to Las Vegas," said the flight attendant through the intercom system. My face, as usual, was glued to the window, my curiosity, my sense of wonder, my excitement in perfect harmony. Finally, after all these years I had finally made it. . . Here I am... in the Mojave Desert. As we taxied to our gate, the reflection of the bright sun brought to memory that day, way back in the third grade, in the school library, where I sat with a pile of books -- every book I could find on the Mojave Desert, Mountains, on Reptiles, Lizards, Snakes, Las Vegas,
the West, the Wild West... It wouldn't be long before we made that move. Oh yes, at the tender age of eight I was going to be a true pioneer. I was so excited, so very excited. A new life awaited us and I couldn't wait. Las Vegas, here we come. I was sure as hell that Dad was making the final preparations for our journey out west. I was sure he was taking care of business. I knew that was what fathers did -- they took care of business.

After deplaning, there, the sounds, the music, oh the excitement. Slot machines everywhere, people transfixed to the hypnotic chimes, the clang of coins, the flashing lights. My aversion to gambling now in reprieve. Let me toss a few coins in the dang thing. Yes, oh yes, two coins in, four out. Again! Three coins in, five out. "This is easy money," I attested to the pretty, halter-topped girl next to me. She smiled, deposited her coins in the slot. Nothing. Again, nothing. Her smile dropped, she scurried away.

Well, I thought, maybe I, too, should stop, leave this gateway a winner. Besides, during the next four days I will have plenty of time to drop a few coins here and there. The Imperial Palace, my hotel, would have plenty of slot machines. And, of course the Mirage as well, where my mother's cousin now sat comfortably as a pit boss, so I heard. I hadn't seen him since I was a mere child, during one of his rare visits to Chicago. The last time I saw Cousin Bobby was well after Father had gone, vanquishing my innocent dreams, tearing apart what could have been.

The Beginning - Part I: "In The Line of Duty"

2008-02-09T08:14:00.000-08:00

The First Time To Las Vegas: Part One

It was while waiting at the bus stop when I met the two police officers (Police Officer Raymond C. Kilroy & Police Officer Gregory A. Hause) who were both killed a week later in the line of duty. I met them while I was waiting to catch the C.T.A. bus that would take me to O’Hare International Airport for my first trip to Las Vegas. The year was 1990 and this was the first year of the Las Vegas Mega-Resort.

The Mirage with its resident entertainers Siegfried and Roy, along with their White Bengal tigers was a place to go as were all the other points of interest I had been hearing about but never really had the desire to go and see for myself. Maybe I was turned off by Las Vegas because of its reputation as a gambling mecca. Maybe because it was the place I was so excited about moving to when I was eight years old after my mother’s cousin encouraged my father that Las Vegas was the place for a man to stake his claim in the burgeoning casino industry. Cousin Bob told my father, “Vince, with your bar tending experience and mathematical aptitude you could make yourself a very decent living for you and your family.” It never panned out though.

My father’s bartender experience and mathematical aptitude led him to drink up his earnings while neglecting the bills that were piling up at home. And by the time I was ten years old, my dad’s bartender skills impressed one of his female customers so much that she fell in love with him as I suppose he did with her. His mathematical aptitude suffered greatly after he left his family on Thanksgiving Day of my tenth year. The subtraction of five people who loved him and depended on him didn’t fit into his equation as he left for Florida with his new love interest.

But now, I was becoming a changed man and the sour taste I had for Las Vegas was sweetened up a bit by the idea of an inexpensive getaway to a place where the sun was promised to shine endlessly and the wine flowed freely. In some ways, I was becoming a lot like my father. With my own mathematical aptitude and philosophical approach as well as an insatiable appetite for anything that contained alcohol, Las Vegas was a great idea. “And Ricky, wait to you see the showgirls there.” It didn’t take me too much effort to book a four-night vacation in glitzy Vegas.

That morning of my departure I awoke to the Chicago sun, blazing in through my easterly window. I went over to close the blinds and in doing so, noticed a few squad cars at the corner, near the drug store and next to the bus stop where I would catch my bus. Hmm, I wonder what’s going on?’ I hadn’t time to ponder too much; I had to get a quick shower and a shave.

I got to the bus stop and noticed the big plate glass window of the drug store gone. Two Chicago police officers remained on the scene until a crew came out to board up the window. One policeman, he was rather hefty, a jolly looking man with a red face. The other, smaller in frame, he kind of reminded me of Barney Fife, but a more rotund Barny Fife. I asked,

"What happened?"

"The drug store was broken into early this morning," said the heftier officer, lighting up a smoke. "Whoever broke in, got away with a helluva lot of drugs. That part of the store had been ransacked."

"Destroyed," interjected the other cop. "By the way, do you live around here?" he asked.

I set my suitcase down. "Yes, right there," I said as I pointed to the apartment building a half block down the street.

"Did you happen to see or hear anything, say, about four or five this morning?" the other cop asked, flipping his cigarette to the ground, then stomping on it.

I thought about it for a moment and realizing that I was sound asleep about that time with the window closed I knew I couldn't have possibly heard a thing except maybe my cat chasing a ball around.

"No, I'm sorry, I hadn't heard a thing," I said.

I could see that they were staring intently at my suitcase. Considering the circumstances I’m sure they were probably a bit suspicious of the contents. For all they knew I could’ve been the perpetrator and the suitcase was actually full of prescription drugs instead of my three pair of shorts, two dress shirts and three pairs of pants. Oh, and a few pairs of socks plus my toiletries.

“So, it looks like you’re going on vacation,” the bigger cop said, now smiling.

“Yeah, I am,” I answered. The tension was broken; I was no longer a suspect, thank goodness. I felt more at ease. “I’m going to Las Vegas, my first time.”

Really?” he said, pulling another cigarette out of his shirt pocket. “Me and my wife went there three years ago and we had a blast. Saw a few good shows and lost a bit of money but it was worth it. Just be careful and have some fun,” he added, lighting up his cigarette. He took a long draw off it and blew out an enormous white cloud of smoke. “Well, I wish you lots of luck.”

“Yeah, me too,” said the other officer. “And if you get a chance, go see Hoover Dam. It’s an engineering marvel.”

“I’ll try to do that,” I said. Coming down the street was my bus. I was becoming more excited. I can’t wait to get to Vegas. “Well, here comes my bus.” I picked up my suitcase and walked toward the bus stop sign. “Well, it was nice meeting you two. I hope you find whoever was responsible for this break-in.”

“Oh, we will,” said the bigger cop. “Remember, win lots of money and think of us while you’re sitting poolside.”

“I will,” I said. The bus pulled up, the door opened. I climbed aboard and deposited my dollar-fifty in the fare box. As the bus pulled away, the two police officers were standing away from the curb, waving and smiling. Those guys were two of the nicest police officers I had ever met. I wish more were like them. I took my seat and closed my eyes. As the bus bounced down the big city street my mind turned a hard corner and suddenly I was taken to a darker time, a perilous place. I was thirteen years old. Alone, I stood against the world.

The shopping cart is heavy, full of pop bottles, occasionally the wheels get stuck in the cracks and clefts of the alley, causing strain and tear on my young, weakened muscles. I push hard though, I must make it to the Jewel Food Store to exchange the pop bottles for the deposit money; money that I’d use to buy macaroni, cans of tuna and jars of peanut butter and jelly – stuff that would save Wendy and me from dying of starvation. I hope she’s okay. I hope her Cindy Doll is comforting her while I’m on my mission. I hear a car; it’s behind me. Chills run down my spine. I pull the cart to the side, crash into a garbage can. Suddenly, I hear walkie-talkies – the distinct sound of static and transmitted voices. I become paralyzed.

Two doors open. The blare from reports of crime-infested activity becomes louder. Heavy footsteps follow. I slowly turn my head. Two blue men with their hands on their holsters are approaching. I struggle hard to become disentangled from both fear and hunger but I can’t move. I close my eyes, fearing the worst. Suddenly, a heavy object strikes my shoulder, pushes me down hard to the ground.

“Don’t you move, you low-life piece of scum.” And then, a heavy foot presses hard against my back, the smell of shoeshine polish and leather penetrates my nostrils. I feel like I’m going to vomit but there’s nothing in my stomach so instead I choke, now knowing that soon my life will be over.

“Where did you throw that bag of dope?”

I struggle hard to answer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, officer. I didn’t have any bag of dope.”

“Don’t get smart with me, you fucking piece of shit. We saw you run and throw it as we were coming down the alley.”

I try to turn my head so that I could look up. But his foot changes position and moves up my spine to my neck. He puts all his weight down. I’m starting to choke again, nearing convulsions. Goodbye Momma, goodbye Dad. Goodbye Trish and Lenny and Wendy. I love you all.