Working my way through a large arch and onto the large open floor, it was the sounds that hit me. People talking, yelling, bells, whistles, the cling clink clink of winnings dropping from slot machines.
I stopped in Vegas on my way home from Arizona. Not a gambler, I was looking more for the experience and atmosphere, than to actually win any money.
Walking into the hotel lobby, I was impressed with the three story high, cascading waterfall and the glass and brass walls that made you feel like you were in a massive canyon.
On the slots floor some people watch the little screens intently as the wheels spin hypnotically, others feed the machines money and talk to their neighbours, looking around without a care in the world. The only interruption to the endless arm pulling and button pushing is the flashing lights and ringing bells of a winner. Then like herd of giraffes everyone stretches up to look over their machines at the winner, wishing it was them, wondering how much the person is winning and how much was put in before that win. Or was it just a lucky machine? Can a machine be lucky?
I lose forty bucks here, twenty each on two different machines. I ride the one machine for a while, but eventually the credits wind down. Oh well, I’m smart enough to get up and walk away.
The guy beside me put two hundred in, and pulled the arm so fast he was done before I finished my twenty’s worth. He was pulling out another hundred out of his wallet when I got up to leave. As I’m walking away I see this little old lady win at a progressive machine which was up to forty-three hundred. She was jumping around so much I thought she better take it easy, or she's gonna have a heart attack.
I wandered past the card tables next. There were games I’d never heard of, so I stuck to watching the blackjack and poker tables.
It’s amazing the different people you see in these places, some look like gamblers and are watching everything going on around them, alert and thinking. Others are laughing and talking and drinking while they play. Some players are betting large amounts and some small.
While there's really no difference between losers, some people assume a cautious guy who's losing must be having a run of bad luck, but someone betting big money haphazardly is throwing money away. What's bad is watching someone who is betting and losing because they don’t understand the game. Things got heated at one table when that happened.
The woman playing blackjack kept stopping at ten or twelve, or else asked for a card when she had seventeen or eighteen. Bad moves either way. This would've been okay if it only affected her, but this was disrupting the flow of cards for everyone at the table.
Two guys in particular where steaming. As much as they're in the right, I couldn’t help but laugh at them, because all they would've had to do is get up from the table and find another one. Although that's hard to do if you’re superstitious and this is your favourite table. It was like a movie.
I lost another forty dollars here, all on one table. Luck is a big factor at a casino, the guy beside me kept getting twenty, I kept getting eighteen and the dealer kept getting nineteen. I didn’t last long, and wondered how much money must be lost here every day. Wow.
Finishing up, I started walking around to find a way out. That’s when I found the Roulette wheels.
From five feet away I took it in. It’s like an event. People scurry around putting different coloured chips on numbers all over the board, while someone else puts their chips on the blank spots, even on top of yours. After the wheel is spun and the ball is dropped, they keep on making last second piles of chips. Last call is announced and the croupier sweeps an arm above the whole table to signify no more chips.
Heads turn as one, watching the wheel. The little ball spins forever, everyone holding their breath as it starts to slow, then falling down to the inner centre, bounces around in no apparent pattern like a Mexican jumping bean before coming to rest in a slot.
Someone may be a winner, but mostly there are losers. All those chips were placed, but only one number comes up. Some people are winning small amounts, going for easy bets like red or black, or evens and odds, at two to one. Others go for the big win. They pick one number, hoping for thirty-six to one odds. The spinning wheel seems hypnotic. The dance of the bettors around the felt table is frantic and a blast to watch.
Moving in to the table, I seek a good vantage point to watch the wheel spin. The ball is whizzing around when something catches my eye. The wheel is turning fast and through the blur I see a red bar going round and round. I see the color but not any numbers. It’s like one of the ball slots is standing out as it whirls around. I watch the wheel slow and the ball land on red twenty-four. Sudden adrenalin surging through me gets me juiced. My heart is pounding. I knew I had just had a premonition that it was going to be red.
I can’t wait for the betting dance any more. I want the wheel to spin. I want to see if it happens again. The ball drops in and the blur starts. Eagle eyed now, watching closely, I see a black bar flowing in the blur.
I jerk myself up straight and wait for the ball to settle. Nineteen black. Holy. What can I do with this? I’ll need to wait for the ball to drop, identify the color in the blur, and place my bet before the arm crosses the table for no more bets.
Excited, I'm rooted to the table. By midnight I've racked up fifteen hundred. A group is gathering watching my winning streak.
I should have stopped earlier, I didn’t want any attention. So I gather my winning and cash out. Sitting at the bar watching the faces of the winners and the losers, I wonder what my face looks like.
Deciding to not press my luck, I retreat to my room. I fall asleep thinking about the next day.
I go golfing in the morning, more because I have a tee off time booked, than because I want to. I love golf, but the urge to hit that table again and see what happens drags at me all the way around the course.
Getting back to the hotel around two, I decide to have a drink and lounge by the pool till supper before trying my luck again.
The second time is a whole new ball game, no amazement, no loitering, just straight to the floor. Realizing I’m walking real fast, I purposely slow my steps as I near the table. I’m early enough to settle into a spot by the wheel and get ready. Sure enough the wheel blurs and my visions start coming. I miss the odd one on purpose tonight. I think it's best to keep the excitement down on the table. I don't want anyone noticing what I’m doing.
It’s around midnight and I’m up a couple grand.
I lean back to take a break and let a few spins go by. While I wait for the waitress to bring me my drink, I start watching the two people across from me. She's a good looking, middle aged blond, regularly passing over hundred dollar bills in exchange for stacks of red chips. He's trying to play some system, putting all of his chips in one dozen or another and staying with it 'til it wins. Are they together? No, it doesn't look like it. The ball drops and I was just about to turn and see what my vision would have been, but something caught my attention.
There is a lazy, almost misty swirl rotating above their heads. As I stare, I start seeing faint images.
Then the ball is clanking to settle in a slot and the swirling stops.
I look around at the other people at the table, but no one is paying any attention, or seems to have noticed.
What the hell was that? Deep in thought, I hear the ball drop and snap my head up. The swirls are forming again. I can almost make out scenes starting to form up as the swirl goes around.
Focusing on the woman, I see images of her working in what looks like a restaurant and lounging by the pool of some posh mansion. I see an outline of a large man, yelling and pushing her around. The next scene is the one of her having uninhibited sex with another dark figure, definitely not the large one.
I switch my attention to the guy just as the swirl fades when the ball settles. Does he notice me staring? I try and focus while I wait for the ball to spin again.
The swirl forms again and his scenes begin drifting around for me to view. There’s a young guy getting married, then success and a life of leisure. Next thing is kids and colleges and endless bills. The most intriguing scene is of some young woman who I figure works in his office. Lots of guilt and pleasure combined floating around with that one.
I had to start betting again so I had an excuse to sit there and watch them while I kept seeing these swirls above them.
Two hours later, sure they are aware of my constant staring, I'm amazed at what I've learned about these two people. I get up and head straight up to my room.
With drink in hand, I sit looking out the window at the strip of endless lights, going over what I’ve just experienced.
The images keep getting longer or moved along, producing additions and continuations to piece together nice little stories. Not complete pictures of their lives, but little glimpses of their secrets.
It appeared the woman was married to some hotshot big-bucks guy, it looked like he abused her, probably both verbally and physically. She worked at a restaurant, just to get away from him for a few hours a day, even though they lived in a mansion and she had anything she wanted at home. Then the scene got better, showing her daydreaming about having an affair with someone here in Vegas who would appreciate her and treat her nice.
The guy was some hot shot investor who married into money and was successful mostly due to opportunities provided by her family. Since then it had been kids and an endless routine of be here, be there, pay this and pay that. I could see he was having an affair with a young secretary at his firm. Right now she was tied up on the bed in his suite upstairs, waiting for him to come back. The guilt was eating at him. Yet the possibility of getting caught excited the hell out of him and had recharged his life.
I knew someone could work these situations and either have some fun or maybe make some money. What a rush.
It’s three in the morning now and I’m supposed to leave tomorrow. I never though like this before but opportunity knocks at funny times and in funny ways. It has me wanting to stay a week and explore this thing. I know that woman was up for some fun and that guy might pay to keep things a secret. That’s blackmail though and that’s criminal, I can’t believe I’m thinking about it. First time for everything I guess. But the power, the adrenalin, they’re intoxicating. Could I really do this? I’ll need a few more drinks while I think this through.
I decided to stay. Booked another week and spent the day thinking about how I could use these visions. I should strike up conversation and ask some questions. I need to know how long people are here for, so I can pick people I’ll have time to work on. Maybe I can do something to enhance and influence the images or bring out emotion. I need to understand their stories and find a way to capitalize on it.
Walking on to the casino floor I feel like a hunter, senses heightened. There's prey out there to be tracked. Like I’m a spy, walking elbow to elbow with those I watch, seeing secrets and knowing their lives.
Again, I see the man and woman are at the same table. I pull up a chair and throw down a handful of cash for some chips. Looking directly at them I say, “So, How long’s everyone in Vegas for?”
“Till the end of the week, back to New York on Friday,” he says without looking up, intent on placing his chips.
“Ah, New York. That’s were all the real money and mobsters are, bet you can get in trouble there,” I watch for his response.
There is none except a false smile as he throws a quick look at me.
“I’m going back to Colorado tomorrow,” she said, not really making eye contact.
“You’re a very good looking lady, I’m sure someone must be waiting for you back home.” I give her my best smile.
She looks up without a reply, but smiles back, staring for a second. Switching between watching the wheel and winning some money, I watch the swirls above the man and woman. I look around at others at the table to see if they have swirls forming above them too.
Sure I was going to make a move on the woman, I let the night play out, catching her eye every once in a while.
Not really caring about my actual bets, I push a few chips out in front of me as an excuse to stay at the table and watch for the swirls. All night the ball spins and drops while I watch these two, seeing their lives spread out in small, twenty second chunks through the mist as the wheel spins again and again.
The woman's scenes are full of sensual, romantic episodes. No more restaurants and large dark shaped men. Now she sees herself making love on a beach, or in a whirlpool. I see myself in her scenes and know she’s mixing me with her fantasies. I feel her looking at me more frequently and deliberately catch her eye every once in a while.
On the other hand, the guy has got some bad stuff floating around his head. There are lots of dark, intimidating figures looking for him, long cars and suits, wearing sunglasses and bulges that look like guns. There’s even a funeral procession mixed in that mess.
Around 9:30 she runs out of chips and pushes back from the table. With a sigh, she heads towards one of the brass railed stand up bars. I quickly cash out my chips and follow her.
“Can an intrigued man buy a gorgeous woman a drink?’
Looking first flustered, then blushing, with a spreading smile, she replied, “Thanks, I guess it would be alright.”
Over the next hour we chatted over drinks, covering lives, careers, and winnings. Although I lied when I told her I had lost some, and about everything else I said about my life.
Complimenting her on her looks was easy. She was sexy as hell, with a body that didn’t end. This wasn’t going to be anything serious, just an opportunity to be seized. So I threw out a challenge.
“You're gorgeous and sexy. I’m sane and looking to find a woman who wants some attention. My room number is 489. I'll be there for the next couple hours if you’re interested. It was nice to meet you.”
Leaving her with an open mouth, confusion etched on her face, I get up and walk away.
If she bites, she’ll want to go and freshen up, so I’ll give her an hour. I shower, and wrapped in a bathrobe, settle into a chair in the living room of my suite. The blood is pounding in my ears with anticipation. This one wants affection and attention, so that’s what I’ll give her.
Fifteen minutes after her allotted hour, I'm starting to wonder if she will come, when there's a knock at the door. “Doors open.”
Clearly uncertain, she shuts the door and walks towards me. Wearing a full length coat which reveals nothing, her hair bounces with each stride. The coat drops to the floor and she stands in front of me naked. Rising, I pull her into my arms to meet her with gentle, deep passionate kisses, stroking her hair and running my hands down her back, cupping her ass, pulling her against me.
Leading her to the bedroom, I lay back and pull her on top, touching her and coaxing her while caressing, kissing and whispering to her. A little timid at first, her confidence and excitement rises as she uses me to satisfy herself.
Pulling her close, I roll her on to her back so I can please her again. Rocking back and forth in a slow steady rhythm while I stare into her eyes and tell her she’s beautiful.
Laying there afterwards, catching my breath, it's amazing, how easy it is when you know which ones want it, and what they want.
She stirs beside me, a long slow smile breaks over her face. After shaking off the post-sex euphoria, she retraces her steps to her coat. Hand on the door, she hesitates and looks back.
“My name's Nancy.” She smiles and the door closes gently.
Sleep or gamble? I'm awake now. Pumped. Its eleven-thirty. Another quick shower and down the elevator. A tide of people flows across the casino floor laughing and smiling, a right they've paid dearly for. Luckily my guy is still sitting at the roulette table in front of a small stack of chips.
I sit down and start making some money while waiting for him to finish up. While making sure not to win too often, to avoid any unwanted attention, I start watching the other players. The pair of retired ladies weren't very interesting, neither was the young college age kid with the weird haircut. The big guy standing at the end of the table was a sharp dressed dude with money to spend, he caught my attention momentarily.
The mist around him was full of the fast life, fast cars, women, beaches, parties. It seemed he was involved in stocks or something.
I bank another quick fifteen-hundred dollars before my guy stands up and walks away. Cashing out, I follow, hoping he wants a drink before leaving, and he does. Waiting a bit for him to settle and get a little liquor under his belt, I mentally run the play over in my head. Can I do this? Should I?
Aw, just go for it. Do it. Quick, simple, he either bites or not. I work myself up beside him at the bar and order a drink.
“Hey, how are ya? You were doing okay out there,” before I could say anything, he spoke first, saluting me with a rattle of ice cubes.
“You're right, I was doing okay but that’s all I expect.”
He looked over at me, chuckled a little, and downed the watery dregs of his drink before starting to rise.
“Let me get you another drink, like you said, I did okay out there,” I smiled.
A few drinks latter he was Brian, I was John, and I had him where I wanted him.
I asked him if he noticed me lose any time at the table. He hadn’t seen that, no. Did he see me sit out some hands? Yes he'd seen that.
So I started telling him I just knew things, it was a gift, that it helped me through life, especially at gambling. Okay, that was a stretch, but I knew he had evidence he needed to back it up.
“I have a proposition for you.”
His head turns round right quick, it's obvious he's curious, but he tries to keep his voice casual. “Really? We never really discussed business.”
“You need to listen closely Brian." I lean forward, "I'm serious. I see things. Like you and that hot secretary you've got waiting upstairs." When he starts to choke a bit on his drink I wave him off, "Don’t worry about it, I see it, but no normal person would find it."
I can feel the fear roll off him mixed with guilt. "I can fix it so no one else ever sees what I see. For ten grand no one else will know, or ever will, if I take care of it for you."
I stand up, "This is a one-time offer, good until lunch tomorrow. Take it or leave it. I won't approach you again, and believe me when I say I'm no threat to you.”
Just like with her, I walk away, leaving him shocked, sitting at the bar. He can go over events as much as he wants, trying to relate my strange rantings to his obviously not so secret affair. He’s smart and has money and with the guilt and fear pouring off him, I may get somewhere. Before I’m too far away, I turn back, “I usually eat lunch on the patio.”
I pick another clam out of the lightly seasoned seafood pasta. This time of year the patio is nice, but I am glad I've been able to snag a table with an umbrella. After two hours by the pool, I didn't need any more sun. At least the shade is keeping my wine cool.
It’s been three days, I lost eighty bucks the first hour I was here, and have won around four grand since. The hotel is only costing me five hundred bucks, so I've made a good profit for the week and its only Tuesday.
That’s not counting the sexy woman I got to spend some time with, or the money that’s in play with Brian.
Think of the guy, and there he is, walking around the pool. His head's bobbing back and forth like he's watching tennis. That guy's going to give himself a heart attack.
The little box he’s carrying catches my eye. The pounding I feel in my throat must be my heart coming through my chest. Calm. Confidence. Smile, take charge.
“Brian. Good to see you man.”
He stands, sweating, maybe shaking a little, both hands clutching the box.
“I need to know you’re sure this will work. And I need to know you won’t be back for more.”
“I assure you the loophole I found will close. Any stupidity on your part going forward is not my issue.”
Putting the box on the table he stands back a few feet, “Fair enough, I guess I should thank you for the wakeup call. I should get rid of her, but she’s everything now.” He walks away.
Unbelievable. Can you wipe the smile off my face? I don’t think so. That’s fourteen thousand in four days. I just need more opportunities.
Shopping all afternoon and an early supper have me showered, in a good suit and shoes, no tie. I walk onto the casino floor like I own it.
It’s easy to sit and let the roulette wheel just hand me the money. Casually watching swirls above people, I see endless snapshots and little video clips of their lives. No one of interest, or at least no interesting stories tonight so far.
The blur of the wheel, that hazy time before the ball drops, has become everything. Every time I snap off a bet, I look up quickly to watch the swirls. More luck for me I guess, as the stock guy from last night sits down.
I focus on him every spin, trying to piece together those glimpses of his life in the mist. A couple hours later up another seven hundred and fifty bucks in my pocket, I have some ideas to chew on.
The owner of a tech company, specializing in some sort of programming stuff, it looks like he’s made millions and wants to stay on top. He’s driving himself nuts about his plans for tomorrow afternoon.
While he's been pretending interest in buying a start-up that is breaking out as a competitor, their stocks have been rising and the media has been all over the story. Thing is, he plans to pull out at the last second and leave them high and dry. He hopes this will kill their stock and ruin them.
Can I do something with this? A little research won’t hurt.
Leaving the roulette table, I make for the suite I moved into this afternoon. While I wait for room service to bring me a bottle of wine, I settle on the spacious balcony looking over the strip and do some surfing.
After an hour I have enough information to sit back and think through my plan.
He’s definitely on top of the pile, his company's worth millions, the stock is solid enough it won’t be damaged whatever he does. The start-up's stock was a dollar and has risen to five dollars with the takeover buzz. Their stock will surely go through the floor if he pulls out of the deal.
After a sleepless night, I’m on the phone to my broker and my bank, to set up an account, dropping the ten thousand I scored from Brian into it.
If I'm going to short this stock, I'm going to need a margin account to maximize my opportunity.
I'll use my ten grand as five percent down to get that type of account, which works like a line of credit, to end up with a two hundred grand limit. The broker will lend me two hundred grand worth of the start-up's shares. Then I'm gonna to gamble that the share drops right down to the ground. When it hits my one dollar target, I can buy it back, give the broker back his shares and pocket the difference, a cool hundred and fifty grand of profit for myself.
I'm wound up enough that I can't relax like I wanted to by the pool, although my northern skin really loves the rays. I wander around nervously until it's time to catch the news. At six I'm jiggling my ice cubes in the glass, waiting for CNBC to run the story. Suddenly there he is.
“After completing our due diligence, the board has decided to withdraw from discussions. This start-up is really missing a number of key ingredients that will affect its future. It just isn't a fit for us at the present time.”
Boom, down comes the wrecking ball.
I’m jumping up and down, my drink spilling everywhere.
Oh, I'm top of the world! Man this is crazy, but Christ I like it.
Going to have to wait and see how far that stock falls tomorrow, but I can go out now and not be so dammed worried.
An hour later and seven hundred heavier in the pocket, I get interested in the story of a little brunette who just sat down. She is very reserved, her clothes and makeup are pretty plain by Vegas standards. It takes a while to piece her story together, but I like it.
She’s supposed to be at a book convention in Phoenix. Ignored by an older husband who has no time for her, the stop in Vegas is to find a real man, someone who is assertive, attentive.
Very interesting. She’ll never find anybody sitting there all bunched up and staring at the table like that, you’d never know she was looking for fun.
I left the table first, waiting nearby for her to run out her chips. As she walks away I manoeuvre myself into a position so I can casually, accidentally, bump into her.
“My god, excuse me, shame on me for bumping into such a gorgeous woman,” I smile.
She flushed bright red before giving me an unbelieving look, “That’s all right, though it's nice of you to say I’m gorgeous,”
“Seriously, you are beautiful. My name's George. Let’s have a drink and I’ll tell you some more.”
She's completely red now, hesitates, looking around, “I'm Mary.”
After a couple drinks she's relaxing, our legs are intertwined. My hand slowly caresses the inside of her thigh. Getting a bit more aggressive, I start telling her I want her, that I think she’s so beautiful. Standing up, I pull her off the barstool. She wants this and offers no resistance.
From when we started groping in the elevator until we ended up flung out, spent, across the bed, we went at it in the hallway, in the living room, on the couch, over the table and everywhere in between.
Like a caged animal let lose, she revelled in the freedom to explore.
What a night. I sent her on her way with a smile and lay back wondering about my stock gamble.
Watching the morning news and running the online ticker, I watch the start-up company drop off a cliff, to its original dollar price tag, and then further, all the way to forty-five cents. Man what a score. The extra fifty-five cents a share I pocket is just a nice little eleven grand bonus. This is way more than what I made in the last three years of working my ass off.
I check my account balance every ten minutes. What a rush. I need to relax and settle down or I’ll be having a heart attack. I head out for a swim.
Returning to the hotel, a front desk attendant waves me over and gives me an envelope. I wait until I've had a quick shower open it. It was an invitation of some sort.
You are invited to join me
In a celebration of trust
8:00pm Penthouse #1
Strange, no one around here has been given my last name. And what’s a matter of trust?
I should just ignore it, but something about it bothers me. I want to work some magic again at the wheel tonight, this shit is just an unwanted interruption in my rise to power.
That’s what it feels like. Women when I want and all the money I can spend in just three days. Christ, I may have to move here.
The waiter hands me a drink, but refuses to answer any questions. He motions to a leather arm chair in the middle of the room, so I sit. He puts a decanter and some ice on the small table in front of me and leaves.
Good thing I went shopping yesterday. I didn't bring a suit with me on the trip, so the new Armani is the only thing I have to wear to a business meeting. Where in the hell is this guy?
Pouring another drink, the restlessness is starting to grab at me, I’m not waiting much longer for this guy. I got things to do. I finish the drink and hesitate over pouring another one, or just getting up and leaving, then I hear,
“You'd best have another Mr. Johnson.”
Turning my head, the low, growling voice, seems to be coming from the other end of the room which is in complete darkness. Frozen in place initially, I jump up in response, “Who the hell are you buddy? I think I’m outta here.”
Just as I'm about to move, my muscles freeze. Looking at me, out of the darkness in the corner are two eyes, burning like coals. My glass bouncing off the carpet cuts any chance of looking tough, but I try to stand up straight and stop shaking.
“I’m the collector, and I’m here to collect my money from you Mr. Johnson. So sit down and have another drink.”
Dropping my ass back into the chair, I quickly pour and knock back a half a glass in one shot.
“Come now Mr. Johnson. Did you think the events of recent days happen to every idiot like you? You’ve made money, my money, and I'm going to let you continue to make me more money, but first you will need to meet with my assistant and pay over my half of what you made so far.”
I've still only seen the eyes that one time he looked up. And I sure as hell don’t want to see them again. But this can’t be for real. What can this guy have to do with anything?
“Yeah sure, whatever you say." I get to my feet again. "Listen buddy, I don’t have time to waste with you. You do your thing, I’ll do mine.”
The eyes in the dark snap open, then squint at me. The room starts to blur and whirl. Suddenly I’m in the air, flying around and around the room, upside down, backwards, at dizzying speed.
And I look down to see myself sitting on the chair. Images fly by me. I see myself burning up in flames. Falling off an endless cliff, banging off the ledges all the way down. There’re car accidents with me stuck inside, being crushed by concrete and eaten by animals.
The swirling stops. I realise I’m screaming. I grab both arm rests.
“How much did you make this week Mr. Johnson?”
“About four thousand dollars playing roulette.” I struggle to form the words, to keep from babbling.
A punch of air hits me like a wave of rocks, knocking me and the chair over. I roll across the floor, slamming into the bar. I can’t seem to get air to breathe and struggle to stay conscious. First I’m slammed with the air and then there’s none to breathe.
When things settle again, I go pick up the chair. I sit down, brushing a bit at the blood dripping from my broken nose onto my wrinkled suit.
“Never lie to me Mr. Johnson." The eyes bore into me. "You used two women, took one man for ten grand and then made a hundred and sixty-one investing it. You will pay me eighty thousand and five hundred dollars before the end of the day. Do you understand?”
My throbbing head hangs to my knees, while I try to understand what's going on. There seems to be no way out of this mess except maybe getting the hell out of here and leaving Vegas entirely.
But it’s the power, the rush and adrenalin pumping excitement. I like having the women and the money and just the rush of the game. Jesus I’m in trouble now because I want it.
I can't do this. This guy is insane, and clearly doesn’t mind inflicting plenty of pain. I don’t want any arrangement with him. On the other hand I’m not sure he’ll let me go now either. I want to walk over there and smash his head off the wall so I don’t have to decide. What I need is time to think it out, but I don’t have that, right now it’s make money and have fun, or expect trouble with the bastard in the corner.
“Yes, I understand.” I stand up.
“See you again next Wednesday Mr. Johnson. Now get out before I have you for lunch.”
The laughing I hear as I slunk to the door can’t be heard in the hallway. But will go on and on in my head forever.
©Rejean Giguere - 2011