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Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas :: Thompson Hunter S.
Страница: 61 из 255My beard was about three days old, bordering on standard wino trim, and my eyes were totally hidden by Sandy Bull’s Saigon - mirror shades.
But my voice had the tone of a man who knows he has a reservation. I was gambling on my attorney’s foresightbut I couldn’t pass a chance to put the horn into a cop:and I was right. The reservation was in my attorney’s name. The desk - clerk hit his bell to summon the bag - boy. “This is all I have with me, right now,” I said, “The rest is out there in that white Cadillac convertible.” I pointed to the car that we could all see parked just outside the front door. “Can you have somebody drive it around to the room?”
The desk - clerk was friendly. “Don’t worry about a thing, sir. Just enjoy your stay here - and if there’s anything you need, just call the desk.”
I nodded and smiled, half - watching the stunned reaction of the cop - crowd right next to me. They were stupid with shock. Here they were arguing with every piece of leverage they could command, for a room they’d already paid for - and suddenly their whole act gets side - swiped by some crusty drifter who looks like something out of an upper - Michigan hobo jungle. And he checks in with a handful of credit cards! Jesus! What’s happening in this world?
3. Savage Lucy… ”Teeth Like Baseballs, Eyes Like Jellied Fire”
I gave my bag to the boy who scurried up, and told him to bring a quart of Wild Turkey and two fifths of Bacardi Anejo with a night’s worth of ice.
Our room was in one of the farthest wings of the Flamingo. The place is far more than a hotel: It is a sort of huge underfinanced Playboy Club in the middle of the desert. Something like nine separate wings, with interconnecting causeways and pools - a vast complex, sliced up by a maze of car - ramps and driveways. It took me about twenty minutes to wander from the desk to the distant wing we’d been assigned to.
My idea was to get into the room, accept the booze and baggage delivery, then smoke my last big chunk of Singapore Grey while watching Walter Cronkite and waiting for my attorney to arrive. I needed this break, this moment of peace and refuge, before we did the Drug Conference. It was going to be quite a different thing from the Mint 400. That had been observer gig, but this one would need participation - and a special stance: At the Mint 400 we were dealing with anessentially simpatico crowd, and if our behavior was gross outrageous… well, it was only a matter of degree.this time our very presence would be an outrage.
But my voice had the tone of a man who knows he has a reservation. I was gambling on my attorney’s foresightbut I couldn’t pass a chance to put the horn into a cop:and I was right. The reservation was in my attorney’s name. The desk - clerk hit his bell to summon the bag - boy. “This is all I have with me, right now,” I said, “The rest is out there in that white Cadillac convertible.” I pointed to the car that we could all see parked just outside the front door. “Can you have somebody drive it around to the room?”
The desk - clerk was friendly. “Don’t worry about a thing, sir. Just enjoy your stay here - and if there’s anything you need, just call the desk.”
I nodded and smiled, half - watching the stunned reaction of the cop - crowd right next to me. They were stupid with shock. Here they were arguing with every piece of leverage they could command, for a room they’d already paid for - and suddenly their whole act gets side - swiped by some crusty drifter who looks like something out of an upper - Michigan hobo jungle. And he checks in with a handful of credit cards! Jesus! What’s happening in this world?
3. Savage Lucy… ”Teeth Like Baseballs, Eyes Like Jellied Fire”
I gave my bag to the boy who scurried up, and told him to bring a quart of Wild Turkey and two fifths of Bacardi Anejo with a night’s worth of ice.
Our room was in one of the farthest wings of the Flamingo. The place is far more than a hotel: It is a sort of huge underfinanced Playboy Club in the middle of the desert. Something like nine separate wings, with interconnecting causeways and pools - a vast complex, sliced up by a maze of car - ramps and driveways. It took me about twenty minutes to wander from the desk to the distant wing we’d been assigned to.
My idea was to get into the room, accept the booze and baggage delivery, then smoke my last big chunk of Singapore Grey while watching Walter Cronkite and waiting for my attorney to arrive. I needed this break, this moment of peace and refuge, before we did the Drug Conference. It was going to be quite a different thing from the Mint 400. That had been observer gig, but this one would need participation - and a special stance: At the Mint 400 we were dealing with anessentially simpatico crowd, and if our behavior was gross outrageous… well, it was only a matter of degree.this time our very presence would be an outrage.