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Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas :: Thompson Hunter S.
Страница: 22 из 255He wanted to goback out in the dust storm and keep trying for some rare combination of film and lense that might penetrate the aweful stuff.
“Joe,” our driver, was willing. His name was not really “Joe,” but that’s what we’d been instructed to call him. I had talked to the FOMOCO boss the night before, and when we mentioned the driver he was assigning to us he said, “His real name is Steve, but you should just call him Joe.”
“Why not?” I said, We’ll call him anything he wants. How about “Zoom”?”
“No dice,” the FOrd man said, “It has to be “Joe”.
Lacerda agreed, and sometime around noon he went out on the desert again, in the company of our driver Joe. I went back to the blockhouse bar/casino that was actually the Mint Gun Club - where I began to drink heavily, think heavily, and make many heavy notes…
6. A Night on the Town… Confrontation at the Desert Inn… Drug Frenzy at the Circus Circus…
Saturday midnight… Memories of this night are extremely hazy. All I have, for guide - pegs, is a pocketful of keno cards and cocktail napkins, all covered with scribbled notes. Here is one: “Get the Ford man, demand a Bronco for race - observation purposes… photos?… Lacerda/call… why not a helicopter?… Get on the phone, lean on the fuckers… heavy yelling.”
Another says: “Sign on Paradise Boulevard - ’Stopless and Topless’… bush - league sex compared to L.A.; pasties here - total naked public humping in L.A… Las Vegas is a society of armed masturbators/gambling is the kicker here/sex is extra/weird trip for high rollers… house - whores for winners, hand jobs for the bad luck crowd.”
A long time ago when I lived in Big Sur down the road from Lionel Olay I had a friend who liked to go to Reno for the crap - shooting. He owned a sporting - goods store in Carmel. And one month he drove his Mercedes highway - cruiser to Reno on three consecutive weekends - winning heavilyinch time. After three trips he was something like $15,000 ahead, so he decided to skip the fourth weekend and take friends to dinner at Nepenthe. “Always quit winners,” explained. “And besides, it’s a long drive.”
On Monday morning he got a phone call from Reno - from the general manager of the casino he’d been working out on. “We missed you this weekend,” said the GM. “The pit - men were bored.”
“Shucks,” said my friend.
So the next weekend he flew up to Reno in a private plane, with a friend and two girls - all “special guests” of the GM.
“Joe,” our driver, was willing. His name was not really “Joe,” but that’s what we’d been instructed to call him. I had talked to the FOMOCO boss the night before, and when we mentioned the driver he was assigning to us he said, “His real name is Steve, but you should just call him Joe.”
“Why not?” I said, We’ll call him anything he wants. How about “Zoom”?”
“No dice,” the FOrd man said, “It has to be “Joe”.
Lacerda agreed, and sometime around noon he went out on the desert again, in the company of our driver Joe. I went back to the blockhouse bar/casino that was actually the Mint Gun Club - where I began to drink heavily, think heavily, and make many heavy notes…
6. A Night on the Town… Confrontation at the Desert Inn… Drug Frenzy at the Circus Circus…
Saturday midnight… Memories of this night are extremely hazy. All I have, for guide - pegs, is a pocketful of keno cards and cocktail napkins, all covered with scribbled notes. Here is one: “Get the Ford man, demand a Bronco for race - observation purposes… photos?… Lacerda/call… why not a helicopter?… Get on the phone, lean on the fuckers… heavy yelling.”
Another says: “Sign on Paradise Boulevard - ’Stopless and Topless’… bush - league sex compared to L.A.; pasties here - total naked public humping in L.A… Las Vegas is a society of armed masturbators/gambling is the kicker here/sex is extra/weird trip for high rollers… house - whores for winners, hand jobs for the bad luck crowd.”
A long time ago when I lived in Big Sur down the road from Lionel Olay I had a friend who liked to go to Reno for the crap - shooting. He owned a sporting - goods store in Carmel. And one month he drove his Mercedes highway - cruiser to Reno on three consecutive weekends - winning heavilyinch time. After three trips he was something like $15,000 ahead, so he decided to skip the fourth weekend and take friends to dinner at Nepenthe. “Always quit winners,” explained. “And besides, it’s a long drive.”
On Monday morning he got a phone call from Reno - from the general manager of the casino he’d been working out on. “We missed you this weekend,” said the GM. “The pit - men were bored.”
“Shucks,” said my friend.
So the next weekend he flew up to Reno in a private plane, with a friend and two girls - all “special guests” of the GM.