Las Vegas

The Newest Desert

Look there.

Roadrunner.

If he catches you, you're through.

Walking tonight.

Warm enough to make you wonder whether shirts were really the right idea.

Look at this.

Sequins.

Cowboy boots.

Three Elvises.

A nun.

I think.

Might've been a blackjack dealer headed home.

Hard to tell anymore.

Marvelous.

Another dispatch from Scott Evers. Read for you by Geezer III.

People think I come to Las Vegas to gamble.

Not really.

Truth be told, I come to shop.

Best thrift and pawn stores around.

...I said pawn. Not porn.

No idea why.

Somebody ought to study that.

I always leave with a book I wasn't looking for and a shirt somebody else got tired of.

Clothes deserve two lives if they've still got one in them.

I play a little blackjack.

Nothing heroic.

Nine of my last dozen trips paid for themselves.

Mind you...

I'm counting the pie.

Funny thing.

You live long enough and places begin keeping multiple versions of themselves.

I remember when folks dressed up to come here.

Gentlemen wore jackets.

Ladies looked like they had somewhere important to be.

Fashion changes.

People change.

Cities do too.

I always take Route Sixty-Six.

Longer.

Worth it.

Gets me through Amboy.

Half ghost town.

Half stubbornness.

Lisa loved stopping there.

Said abandoned places weren't abandoned at all.

Just waiting for somebody curious enough to notice them.

Hold on.

Fred.

—

— yeah.

— i'm here.

—

— no.

— not the casino yet.

—

— of course i'm coming.

—

— just the two nights.

—

— pie?

— no.

— not yet.

— though you've reminded me.

— lemon meringue sounds awfully persuasive.

—

— no, Fred.

— i meant Vegas.

— the whole place.

— it's like walking around inside somebody else's imagination.

— you ought to come sometime.

—

— June?

— take it.

— i'll still be here.

Give me a second.

These desert lips aren't getting any younger.

Well now...

Looky here.

Silver dollar.

Somebody's having a worse night than I am.

Or maybe a better one.

Never can tell.

Pocket that.

There.

Civilization.

Listen to that.

Jackpots.

Music.

Somewhere a machine just made somebody's week.

Marvelous.

Does this look like a desert?

Does to me.

Maybe the newest one.

Funny thing.

People think deserts are empty.

Never been true.

People have always crossed them.

Looking for something.

Nowadays...

Parking.

Look at him.

Poor devil.

Thought he'd won the lottery.

Machine's carrying on like somebody invented gravity.

Turns out...

Eighty-six dollars.

Good for him.

He's smiling.

That's worth something.

I've always wondered who decides what a jackpot ought to sound like.

Needs to be exciting enough to make everybody else look over.

Not so exciting the casino goes broke.

Marvelous.

Funny thing.

Hope's noisy.

...

Different desert.

...

...

...

There we are.

Funny.

Never did trust elevators.

Mostly because they insist on deciding when you arrive.

Quiet all of a sudden.

Hear that?

Neither do I.

Marvelous.

Funny how a building full of thousands of people can disappear behind one hotel door.

Well.

Home for the evening.

Always liked hotel rooms.

Nobody expects anything from you.

You could sit right there in that chair for two hours.

Perfectly respectable.

Do it at home and somebody starts asking questions.

King-sized bed.

Painting nobody's ever looked at.

Coffee maker that'll produce something technically qualifying as coffee.

Marvelous.

...

Huh.

...

That's not what I expected.

Listen.

Air conditioners.

Cooling towers.

Fans.

Civilization breathing.

I was hoping for coyotes.

Suppose they're still out there.

Just farther away than the compressors.

From up here...

You can't really tell where the city ends.

Just light.

Stretching farther than good manners.

They're practicing for Mars out in the deserts now.

Makes sense.

I've always thought we got awfully lucky with this planet.

Been meaning to appreciate it a little more before I start shopping for another one.

...

People say Vegas doesn't belong in the desert.

I think it belongs perfectly.

Every age builds exactly the oasis it deserves.

...

...

...

Well.

No sense standing up here all night.

Let's see whether I still know what I'm talking about.

...

...

...

Good evening.

One hundred in chips, please.

Sorry.

One hundred...

and one dollar.