Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Stratosphere Las Vegas

Hard to believe this was a year ago. Analog film a past lament or a medium to lament the past?


Sunday, September 16, 2012

Tis the season

I was in a strip club one night, just under the 10 freeway in Bloomington. I had been getting loaded on whiskey for close to an hour, passing a dollar to each girl who cycled through in front of me while I drank, when I felt a hand on the back of my arm. I wondered how long the hand had been there before I noticed. The woman behind the hand was wearing some pointless contraption but I was too far gone to get a good look at much of anything. She asked me if I wanted to come upstairs, I didn’t respond and wasn’t sure if I had a choice. So I slid off the stool, and still holding my arm in the same place she led me up stairs. She asked my name and still I said nothing, then she told me hers – Renata. She led me to a cushioned bench seat, and a wall on either side of us she began dancing. I had the impression she was attractive but I was too drunk to care, I could barely focus my thoughts on anything yet alone a woman’s body. After a few minutes she started to get real serious and if I had been sober God knows I would have been in love by now. Then she grabbed the hair on the crown of my head and forcefully pushed my neck back over the bench seat, she looked in my eyes and finally I was paying attention. She said “read my lips,” so I did, and I’ll tell you now 24 years later I can still remember what she said – “No new taxes.”