Viva Las Comdex! Part 1
Part One -
When you something so weird sounding happens, it has to be true......My brother.
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Sometime in the early 90’s
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I was there at the gold rush. It was the mass digitization of the business world and was there - a lazy wanna be with a posse of male 20 something geek friends looking for no good and an appointed hookup with a small group of medical insurance workers that where looking to create there own MIG (medical insurance group) - we were headed to the now utterly dead but back then completely commercialized mini apex of the personal computer the convention called- Comdex, Las Vegas.
Please note - the state of the art in personal computers was Windows 3.0 - the DOS (C:\) days where still in mind -The internet was uber geek ream = bandwidth for a typical DSL connection today was very, very expensive - a large contingent of hackers held more then a trace of the hippy/libertarian/freak mind out cultural past - PC’s held a magical grasp in the minds of many - a Kaddish discipline that keep men (mostly) in the dark (literally) away from sunlight - social interaction and non microwave food - keep on and on and on learning to cast the digital spells that would overturn all - and for what money?? --for the hardcore that was just a spoil in a constructing your own personal universe where you are the Old Testament God..
Now the suits realized there was gold in them hills. The brought the virus with them - what was the virus? Respectability - mainstreaming - money no matter how hard it tries to pay it’s way out always carries it a a consequence of it sheer existence. Post yuppies fever wet dream.....
It becomes almost impossible to convey the amount of money that saturated that town - its only in hindsight we knew the industry was MS Bill’s. Everyone else was due for table scraps.
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Las Vegas has the most hotel rooms in the nation but the digital gold rush pushed out the values to max - a top line hotel was unappeasable without a cooperate bankroll - everyone else had to make due with motel rates that were 4 times higher then normal booked six months in advance.
Heading to that town that week without either made you liable for a sucker punch wallet draining experience at the hands of the poor flea bag hell hole roach motel - pealing stucco - broken heaters (it was winter) worn out beds and a side of town so bad a sawed off shotgun seems sensible as personal protection - Downtown Vegas in its years of deepening decline. And the worse of all of that was the Apache Motel off of the Plaza. In a rusted over 79 Pinto traversing overland 300 something miles it was our destination.
We knew what we where in for but we could rationalize it with the simple fact that Vegas was a 24/7 town - time as we knew it was in a non reality vortex - between gambling, convention going and other activities the only thing we needed it for was to hold out for three nights (although we needed four) - a large nuff gang and we can hold out with the $ split multiple ways.
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The haze of now mostly justifiably forgotten technology was left on the floor that spewed over the LV convention center. The smoking patrons at the blackjack tables and nickel slots hazed over the watered down drinks and beer - the video poker glazed the cerebellum with more drink and fading sense - then the almost obligatory migration to the strip club was mentioned. We went with myself in a bit of wistfulness, the roller coster ride that was my “relationship” with AL was ending it’s first cycle. (I did not have the maturity to know it was based on sex - good sex but just that) The sexual longing I felt would not be made up by the faux decadence that was playing out before me.
I had no idea what would take my mind off of her.....
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Off the LV strip is a strip club with a reputation- this was before the super airbrushed pussy mini mall type clubs dominated the scene - this was not that club - it was a club next to it.
Inside the vinyl seating was set to red - the suites nursing the beers and strippers were out in force. Comdex was a mandatory work night if a stripper wanted to gain a couple bucks.
A strippers art is not just sexual titillation - it’s seduction for cash - but in petitioning to get paid the stripper improves her chances for a adoring free-spending fan with a under the skin contact - that is if they can connect on some level beyond just flesh-- if the men wanted the act prostitution was readily available (legal brothels are only a few hours away)
Anyway -- what the stripper has to do in a sense is do simulate the initial attraction phase of the mating dance - it is something so powerful because men - in general - do not receive overt attraction signals from women in daily life especially those who worked in the sanitized post sexual harassment post 80’s office. The customers know this and they keep a good cynicism that the women have to outwit - it a classic reversal of the normative social sexual equilibrium.
The staging area was divided by the main stage and the lap dances that where held mostly in the corner. Most of the money is to be made by lap dancing - a patron sits in the corner isolated from the rest and keeps his hands to his self. Moving his hands is grounds to be kicked out. The dancer dances over the male lap and tries to not act bored all the while making eye contact.
I had a drink and kept a lazy overt leering to a minimum. With an overpriced drink in one hand I eyed the room.
A blond woman wearing a white under outfit of lace came over with a co-worker, starting to make present conversation with me and my friend, she nearly sat on my lap
She was a peroxide blond with white lace and a slight sheen of nice flesh. Nice lips, a bit of a diffident/aloof manner. She “warmed” to me in that soft stripper hustle. One of my friends joked about his massive electronic porn collection, that turned her off, I move offside from the guys.
Thats when I notices in quick order she was going to territory that I would have never expected to come over in a thousand years.
“You know I'm a buddhist - I chant Nam Myho ---
“ --- I been a Nichiren Buddhist for 4 years now”
she Smiles---”oh really”
In this twirl of lights, money, technology, drink, gasoline and cigarettes we had a slight but noticeable spiritual touch of each other, seekers of the way trying to get by in this universe.
A lap dance, a bit of dollar shuffling at the pole, she hung out with me in her break time. I sense she was non-hustling for some reason - did she actually like me? --- no she knew me in one way that was not on the radar.
The night ended, the club would be closing
“ Do you want to hang out”
“huh -”
I want to get something to eat, - she came closer- I need your company
OK
As the guys went to the cars I waved at them, arm in arm with a newly dressed stripper headed to a Ford Ranger and a don’t wait up for me attitude. I had my friends beeper number, we headed to a cafe in Treasure Island casino. With amazed looks from my friends we dashed off to a late night meal at Treasure Island.
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Over a salad she talked - or more significantly I listened. She had been stripping for a short time, had vague notions of doing something else but no definitive plans. There was an issue with an on again, off again “relationship” (that word just did not fit) who if I understood correctly was shadowing her -- I sensed she wanted a person who could be trusted around in that vague way people can be around in Las Vegas.
I demurred. If I was in any other context I would have tipped my hat - wished the best then gotten out of dodge. The “burnt” feeling (the drive, the drink, the blackjack and video poker) was keeping my energy levels low. It’s a fine line between mench and getting in way over your head.
She had a friend who also had a boyfriend who she trusted, but due to scheduling issues she would be disconnect from them for 24 hours - they where moving out and the whole group was looking for house to rent. She needed to clear out her place and rent a hotel room - a tall order in a week where the largest convention of the year was on.
It was then I kinda got my role in this
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It was a apartment/long term hotel unique to Vegas. It was just off the strip close to all of the major resorts. Almost brand new it featured a week to week payment system - if you wanted the place for a week your could pay they or you could do the monthly rate.
Clean, new and almost unfurnished. A mess of blankets on the floor.
I lounged back - the talk had gotten a bit more smokier. I was not feeling that seductive but I did want to know how the sleeping accommodations would play out.
Feeling a bit smutty - then I took of my shirt
I felt my eyes narrow
A body slid next to mine
At that moment - I feel asleep
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One eye opens up slightly
The apartment has a large main window and behind the curtains is the out line of a body - its pounding on the window
“what the fuck have have I gotten myself into? “ - mutter
She crouches to a defensive posture
I stare at her - the lights are of and I only see an outline as she reaches for something near her purse under some blankets
Her focus is utterly on the window
For the rest of my life I will never forget this image - From the floor and slightly behind her I see a blond women with a sheer lace slip outlined in a shadow of black - my vantage is close to her rear - looking determinately at the window holding onto a stun gun.
The image of the red nail polished hand holding a blue electric current contrasting the shadows left me spellbound - - -
“knock, knock knock”
I try to get up - she looks at me and she turns her head down looks at me then makes a shushing motion
She then turned her attention to the window.
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To be concluded.
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