The village idiot of Las Vegas spends the night with a high end call girl.

Yesterday I received a text from Roxy. She instructed me to meet her at The Palm's around 8:30. As I am on my way I call and ask what the plan is.. She says she is staying there for a few days and gives me her room number. She then adds - "Jethro, don't tell me you are dressed like a homeless guy. Security will never let you past the elevator checkpoint. If they give you a problem have them call me." Sure enough, when I arrived at the tower she was staying in, security wouldn't let me pass. I instruct them to call her room and a few minutes later I was on my way.

If a girl like Roxy, or any other girl for that matter, invites you to their hotel room. Well, most single, heterosexual white boys would assume a good time was on the menu. But Roxy has a way of messing with me. So at this point I am not really sure about things. As I am approaching her room, I notice the door is slightly ajar. I knock gently before sticking my head through the threshold and yelling -"Roxy, it's Rob. Where are you at?" There was brief silence and then I hear her sultry tone say, "I am in the bathroom Jethro. Close the door and come in." 

It's times like these when I know there is a god. She was sitting in a full bubble bath with a bottle of champagne, two glasses and a bowl of fruit on the mantel next to the bath. As I am trying to gather myself, she says - "How's Jethro doing? Did you miss me?" The first thing I notice is her hair. Her beautiful, strawberry blond locks were tied in a bow on the top of her head. "Jethro," she says with an hint of excitement in her tone, "Some times I think I need to write instructions for you. Are you going to join me?" She then sticks her right leg out from under the sea of bubbles. I didn't need anymore prodding after that!

After a go-around or two in the bubble bath, we take things to the bedroom. I'm going to spare most of the details, but I will share one absolute - Roxy is the most sexually charged women I have ever been with. And it was different this time around. She was kind and attentive. Things weren't anywhere near as impersonal as our previous trysts. It was like having a real life girlfriend, but not really. Does that make sense?

I end up spending the night and it was blissful to say the least. Although, she did get upset with me once. Around 3:00 A.M. we decide to take a break and order room service. The concierge shows up with the food and she tells me to give him a ten dollar tip. I don't know why I opened my wallet. I knew there wasn't any money in it, but I wanted to play it off. "You know something, I forgot to put money in my wallet. I left it on my dresser at home," I say in a sheepish tone. A girl like Roxy isn't used to paying for anything. So when I told her that I forgot to bring money, she shook her head and said - "Jethro, you're so pathetic. You don't even have ten dollars to tip a guy. It is a good thing you are so adorable. I can promise you if that wasn't the case, your days of seeing this would be long gone," she then drops the chicken strip she was eating at the time, disrobes, jumps onto the bed and spreads her legs. "Chop-chop boy. I don't like waiting," she tells me as she is motioning me to her with her finger. "Yes Ma'am," was my reply. And the night got that much better.

The village idiot of Las Vegas gets a call from his friend Roxy.

"Waiting - watching the clock, it's 4 o'clock. It's got to stop. Tell him, take no more, she practices her speech as he opens the door, she rolls over...Pretends to sleep as he looks her over. She lies and says she's in love with him. Can't find a better man. She dreams in color, she dreams in red. Can't find a better man."

Pearl Jam - Better Man

"This is Rob." When the number on caller ID is blocked I generally let it go to voice mail. This time, for no apparent reason, I decided to answer it. "Jethro, is that you?" It took all of a millisecond for me to recognize the sultry voice on the other end of the line. "Roxy, how are you doing darling?" For those of you familiar with my blog, you're familiar with Roxy. She was a high end call girl friend of mine in Las Vegas and last spring she moved back to San Diego. This was the first time I had heard from her in nearly nine months.

Roxy and I had a bizarre relationship. I cared for her quite a bit and I think she cared for me. It's just - how do I say this? I am way too poor to ever think a girl like Roxy would ever want to be mine. Let's face it, being charming will only get you so far. If you want to hold on to a California beauty like her. Your pockets had better be deep, and I mean real deep. "Jethro, the reason I called - Well - I miss your worthless ass. Jeff is an asshole. He's been cheating on me with this young skank and I am sick of his bullshit. I'm thinking about moving back to Las Vegas and starting back in the game." When she told me that she missed my worthless ass, I knew she was being sincere. So I told her this, "Listen Roxy, you know that I care for you, but there's way too many things standing in the way. You remember how broke I was when you left town? Well, I am ten times worse off than that now. I will probably be on the streets again soon." Turns out she had been reading my blogs and was familiar with all my misfortunes.

"Jethro, I know that you're a fucking loser. Believe it or not, that's what I like most about you. You're just so adorable. You try so hard with your ideas and they always fail, but it doesn't matter to you. You're always looking at the glass as if it is 'half full.' Besides, I miss Las Vegas. I am coming out to visit next week and if I get the time I will give you a call and maybe we can meet up?" We play catch up a bit longer and then she tells me she must go and that we will talk again soon. After she hangs up, I start analyzing our relationship - if that's what you want to call it - my attraction to her is obvious. She looks, acts, talks and dresses like a 'California bombshell.' She's the kind of girl a lot of guys in the mid west grow up dreaming about. What's her attraction to me? I thought about this intensely for a few minutes and the only thing I could come up with. She likes to go 'slumming' every so often.

The village idiot of Las Vegas thumbs a ride with a nineteen year old Christian.

Nowadays, I have two modes of transportation. The bus or 'Fred and Barney.' With that in mind, last night I thought it would be a good idea to check up on a homeless friend of mine. The problem being is his encampment is four miles from where I live. I was feeling ambitious and the weather is beautiful in Las Vegas this time of year so I decided to make the walk. When I found my friend, at his encampment, he was sleeping. We chatted for a bit, but I could tell he was tired so I decided to head back home. The plan was to take the bus for my return home, but one problem stood in my way - an empty pocket - There's no doubt I can use the exercise, but I had just finished a four mile journey in a ragged pair of shoes. I wasn't looking forward to the trek back home.

A mile or so into the journey home, I start thinking to myself. "You're pathetic, you don't even have three dollars to take the bus. My feet are killing me and I still have another three miles to go before I make it home. This sucks!" As I am in the middle of feeling sorry for myself I hear a young voice say. "Sir, do you mind if I share with you some revelations from the bible?" At first I wasn't sure if the voice from the car was addressing me or someone else. Turns out I was only person standing there, so it must be me he was talking to. I look through the front passenger window and see a young kid. At first glance, I would have guessed 18 or 19. I told him this. "I tell you what buddy. You can tell me about whatever you want if you'll give me a lift back to my apartment." He tells me to hop in. Which I do immediately. 

As were cruising down Jones he asks me this - "Do you believe in God?" For the most part I would say yes and answered him as such. We then pull over in a parking lot across from my apartment, get out of the car and then he proceeds to read a number of revelations to me. This kid had a lot of obvious passion for what he was saying. It didn't take long for me to get confused. I asked him to explain some of what was meant in the revelations in more generic terms, which he did wonderfully. The conversation goes on for 45 minutes or so and then I tell him that I must go. He then says this to me. "Thank-you very much for taking the time to hear me out. I enjoyed meeting you." In actuality, he was the one who did me a favor by offering a poor, broken down, humble soul like myself a ride. At first I felt I had to listen to him in exchange for the ride, but after he started talking, I found myself intrigued by what he was saying. I don't want to sound too sappy about things, but I feel confident saying this kid had a number of angelic qualities.

The village idiot of Las Vegas reminisces about a young Mad Max.

Today's version of the phrase - Mad Max - is best used as a connotation to describe chaos, disorder and anarchy. Example: "A group of guys got into a fight in the parking lot of a strip joint in Las Vegas last Saturday night. Someone in the fracas pulled out a gun and went Mad Max. Leaving two people dead in the aftermath."

The following is an excerpt from a conversation I recently had with a friend. I have affectionately nicknamed him 'Mad Max.' He is an anarchist in every sense of the word.

"Mad Max, you remember when we were kids and the only thing we ever did was play ball, chase chicks, chew Skoal, drink beer and shoot pool?" Mad Max and I had an idyllic childhood. Growing up, neither of us had the slightest inclination to what being an anarchist or Libertarian meant. Like me, Mad Max is of the nostalgic type. So when I reminded him of a bygone era. He told me this - "Hell yes I remember those days. I would give anything to see them return. Remember that piece of shit car you used to have. I think you called it 'The Loaf." My first car was a 1960 Ford Falcon station wagon. It was painted with light brown house paint. Thus resembling a loaf of bread.

Hanging out with Mad Max, back in the day, was like hanging out with the Fonz. He was the coolest hombre in Greenwood County and everyone knew it. "Mad Max, remember that time you were with your girlfriend and those two girls from Eureka came to town looking for you. I still can't believe you were able to get out of that jam unscathed." Mad Max had a way with women that was unparalleled to anything I had seen at the time. My job was to keep them entertained while he ditched his girlfriend. After she was gone, he then swooped in and snatched both of them up. "Yeah, I remember that. They were twins - Bonnie and Betty."

We reminisced about a few other things and then it was time for both of us to return to reality. He said this to me as his parting shot. "Dude, for the most part, I like the blog posts you're writing about me. But do me a favor, ease up on the guns and ammo part. You're making it appear as though I am about ready to snap. I am not that far gone, not yet anyways."

The village idiot of Las Vegas chats with his friend Mad Max about Jack Daniel's and anarchy.

Today's version of the phrase - Mad Max - is best used as a connotation to describe chaos, disorder and anarchy. Example: "A couple of guys robbed a jewelry store in Las Vegas the other day - The owner of the store wasn't having it - He pulled out a shotgun from under the counter and went Mad Max on the two guys."

The following is an excerpt of a conversation I recently had with a friend of mine. I have affectionately nicknamed my friend Mad Max. He is an anarchist in every sense of the word.

"You wait motherfucker! One of these days certain parts of this country will declare martial law. The Socialists bastards we have in charge right now are going to force it. I can promise you one thing is for certain boy. If they ever try to bring that shit on me or mine, bloodshed will follow." I called my anarchist friend Mad Max yesterday to see how things were going. Well, turns out my favorite anarchist had been sipping the whiskey and that's when his rhetoric is at its scariest. "One more thing motherfucker." I have become accustomed to being referred to as motherfucker or asshole when Mad Max is drinking. It doesn't bother me - It's just Mad Max being Mad Max - "You need to get your head out of your ass. The fucking country is going to implode and you're not ready."

I have known Mad Max since Methuselah was a pup. In that time, I've watched his anti government rhetoric ratchet up and up. At first I didn't give it much mind - but nowadays - How do I say this? He's gone, way gone. "One of these days the government thugs are going to show up at my doorstep. Like the fucking Gestapo! They're going to demand complete capitulation from me and mine. Not going to fucking happen! All I gotta say motherfucker is if you see me on the news in a standoff with government forces, just remember. I am a fucking patriot and a patriot doesn't mind dying for what he believes in."

The village idiot of Las Vegas chats with his friend Mad Max about a football conspiracy.

Today's version of the phrase - Mad Max - is best used as a connotation to describe chaos, disorder and anarchy. Example: "The other day I was reading an article in the Las Vegas Sun. The article stated that a guy came home early from work the other day and caught his wife in bed with another man. He became so enraged by what he saw that he decided to pull out his gun and go Mad Max on the scene."

The following is a brief excerpt of a conversation I had with a friend of mine today. I have affectionately nicknamed him 'Mad Max.' He is an anarchist in every sense of the word.

"How the hell do the Chiefs blow a 28 point lead? I tell you what happened. Someone got the call from Las Vegas for them to take a dive. That's what fucking happened. Come on! How the hell do six players go down in the second half? I thought they were going to have to finish the game with the water boy playing tailback. This is the playoffs! Suck it up! I am telling you something wasn't right about the second half of the game." Mad Max has a certain peccadillo that I find both humorous and interesting - Everything is a conspiracy to him - He reminds me some of the Mel Gibson character in Conspiracy Theory.

I wasn't buying into his theory, not this one anyways. "Listen Mad Max, the reason the Chiefs lost that game is simple, they choked! Your inclination that the game was somehow 'thrown' is a bit far fetched for me. I think you're getting out there a little too far. They'll learn from this disaster and come back stronger than ever next year." I have known Mad Max a long time and they're two things that really set him off. The first is the federal government (read previous posts). The second, which I don't hear much about nowadays, is when he loses a bet that he feels he should have won. I was assuming that was the reason he was so peeved about the Chief's loss. I wanted to make sure, so I asked him.

"You're goddamn right I had some coin on it. I was positive they could win the first game. Jesus, look how many Pro Bowlers they have on the roster. Think about it! They were up by 28 points in the third quarter. That's an insurmountable lead! I'm thinking this is the easiest money I am ever going to see and then out of fucking nowhere the whole team gets injured in the second half. They can't get one defensive stop or even a first down. The whole fiasco smells of something not right." After he was through with his diatribe, we chatted about a few other things and then it was time for me to go. When I hung the phone up. I started to really think about what he said. Let's face it, blowing a 28 point lead is not an easy thing to do, but somehow the Chiefs managed to do it. Oh well, there's always next year. I can't tell you how sick and tired I am of saying that, but what else is a fan supposed to do?

The village idiot of Las Vegas has a bad day.

It's not the Chiefs losing the game that hurts the most. It's just the fact that they blew a 28 point lead in doing so. The Chiefs in the second half reminded me a lot of 'Martyball.' Come on! How can a team go from looking like a Super Bowl contender in the first half to resembling my sophomore high school football team in the second? Oh well, there is always next year.

After watching the Chiefs epic collapse I felt it imperative to get some fresh air. A buddy of mine, from my street days, is in terrible shape. I hadn't seen him in a while, so I packed a dinner for two and went searching for him. "Boaty are you in there?" Most homeless people are creatures of habit - meaning they like to stay in the same place - It's a comfort zone kind of thing. "Hey Rob is that you?" Brian Boatwright, aka Boaty, is a West Texas outlaw who has called the streets of Las Vegas his home for the last five years. "Yeah Boaty, it's me. Can I come in?" Boaty has been squatting in an abandoned commercial property in SW Las Vegas for the last six months. I wasn't sure if he was still there when I first decided to go looking for him today, but like I said earlier in the post. Most homeless people are creatures of habit.

I walk in and the first thing I notice is he's lying on the floor in a fetal position with three blankets wrapped tightly around him. I ask him how things are going and he tells me this. "Not good my friend. I have been sicker than a dog the last few weeks. I can't hold anything down. I think I have pneumonia." Boaty is the most rugged guy I have ever met, forty years of living on the street will do that to you. Today, he looked like a man who had one foot in the grave. "Man, Boaty, you don't look so good. Do you want me to take you to the hospital?" It didn't take a doctor to see that he was in bad shape, and I mean really bad shape. "No man, I'm not going to a hospital. I just need to tough it out. I will start to feel better once the weather warms up." Hanging around was an invitation to get sick. That's the last thing in the world I need, so I told him I had to go and would check back in a week or so and hopefully he would be feeling better.

As I sit here putting the days thoughts to rest. Two things jump out at me. One, the Chiefs losing a playoff game they should have won. But that's not important. There is always next year. There is always another game to be played. The second, my friend Boaty. The Grim Reaper is right at his doorstep. If he doesn't get some serious help soon, and I mean real soon. His ticket will get punched.

The village idiot of Las Vegas chats with a Senior Associate...Part 3

The following is an excerpt of a conversation I had with a Senior Associate of mine about an idea I have been touting for a while.

"Warren, you want to know something very intriguing? The U.S. Census Bureau states that by the year 2050, California will be over 50% Asian." As of the 2010 Census the figure stands at 14.9% or roughly 5,500,000. "I know by the time 2050 hits most likely both of us will be dead, but take a moment and think about the explosive growth predicted for the Asian population in the next 40 years. Undoubtedly, the population explosion of Asians in this country will lead to numerous business opportunities."

I never know if Warren or anyone else I talk with for that matter is discerning the information I share. So the only way to know for sure is to ask. Which I did, he told me this. "You want to know something interesting? Last week I read a book written by a Western genre writer. The author's name was Oscar Rush. He traveled the west in the early part of the 20th century taking note of everything he witnessed. Well, let me paraphrase what he said - The sparrows will eventually rule the terrain of this country, pushing out the Christian man - Now, he went into a lot more detail, but in the end his message was that of change. I believe you're telling me that eschewing the so called 'winds of change' is a bad idea and your research leads you to believe that organic growth strategies centered around the sparrows (Asians) would be a wise move."

Pragmatic thinking is what dominates my world nowadays. So after Warren told me about the passage he read, I told him this. "If the Asians are the dominate one's on the scene nowadays, and there isn't any indication that things will change in the foreseeable future. Wouldn't it make sense for a person with my skill sets to try an capitalize on this? If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. The opportunity has to come from somewhere." Warren and I are on opposite ends of the economic spectrum. I feel job creation and entrepreneurship should be stressed til the umpteenth degree in this country. He, on the other hand, could care less about such things. Fortunately for him, he doesn't have to.

"Warren, let me ask you this, because I am still a bit confused about your reference to sparrows. Are you agreeing with me about Asian growth strategies and the idea of aggregating all the restaurants in Chinatown on a website? If I am understanding you correctly, you think it would be a good idea?" By now, it should be strikingly obvious where Asian consumption is headed and thus the advantages of getting in front of it. A lot of times Warren will stay on the line just to appease me, but his reference to sparrows earlier in the conversation had me intrigued. I wanted him to clarify the statement for me. So I asked him to do so - He told me this - "I hear the dogs barking. It's time for me to take them on their walk. Why don't you give me a call some other time and we'll discuss things then, bye."

The village idiot of Las Vegas chats with a Senior Associate...Part 2

I called a Senior Associate of mine today in order to garner his opinion on a few things I'd been blogging about. "Warren, I got to tell you something. Remember when I told you that I signed up a number of restaurants in Chinatown a while back. Well, I called the guy who owns that site the other day to check in on how things were going. He told me that Marnee Thai had ten orders last week." Last spring, I spent a considerable amount of time signing restaurants to a food delivery/ordering website. An acquaintance of mine owned the site. I no longer work for that website.

I have been in Warren's ear for quite some time about the all the possibilities Chinatown and its restaurants possess. I never know if he is listening or not, but when he asked me this, I think maybe he was, listening that is. "They're sure a lot of Asian restaurants in Chinatown. Doesn't anyone market them?" The concept I am touting is very sparse in Chinatown, I told Warren such and he said this, "Why do you think no one is marketing an idea like yours heavily to the Asians?" He asked a good question, and I gave him a truthful answer. "You know what the problem with mainstream America is? Most only think inside the box. Well, the box is way too crowded for anything creative to happen nowadays. You can only open up so many hamburger stands. It's thinking outside the box - Let me take that back - Any moron can think outside the box. It's executing outside the box that is the trick."