333 Miles (28 page)

Dealer: “The dealers thank you kindly,
sir.”

Alex: “My pleasure. Let’s make some more
points.”

Roger: “Numbers, numbers, numbers.”

Alex (jumping up and down again): “OOOOH,
OOOH, AAAH, AAAH, OOOH, OOOH, AAH, AAH!”

Natasha: “Let’s go, shooter. Ooooohhh!”

Gary: “Here we go.”

Dealer: “Eight. No field, eight. The hard
ways fall. Pay the place bets.”

Alex (bobbing his head rapidly): “OOOH, OOOH,
AAAAH, AAAH”

Roger (to Alex): “Incredible.”

Alex: “Yeah, that number is not as good as
the others, but we will take it. Sir, give me $1,000 odds on the
eight, take the place bet down and press the four by $500.”

Roger (handing the dealer an assortment of
black and purple chips): “Press my eight and press the four by
$500.”

Kelly: “Let’s go, Gary. You are awesome.”

Alex was so into the dice game that up until
now he had largely ignored the fact that four very attractive girls
were clearly extremely interested in him and his friends. He
checked his watch, his left hand still holding the dead Dunhill, to
see if there may be time left in the night to try and convince one
of the girls to get a room with him. He pondered only a few seconds
before deciding that even if the opportunity presented itself, he
did not want to leave his friends. Also, he realized he was
probably too tired and drunk to perform and should be satisfied if
he could get a phone number, preferably from the one he now thought
was named Krakow. He noted with amusement that the one in the pink
was clearly infatuated with Gary despite the prominent wedding band
on his left hand which he had been using to roll.

Finished with his reassessment of the girls,
Alex quickly scanned the chip racks. While he, Roger and Gary each
had one rack nearly full with chips, Alex was shocked to see how
little actual money remained, as nearly all of the surviving chips
were ones, fives and twenty-fives. Counting only the money in the
racks, Roger was down to $875, Alex $790 and Gary $1,220. Only $500
remained in Alex and Roger’s communal fund. The girls now had over
$5,000 each. This didn’t compute in his head until he scanned the
table and realized he alone had over $6,500 on the board, with
Roger nearly equal. He was a bit shocked as he couldn’t ever
remember having more than two grand on the table at any one time in
his gambling history. “Rock n’ Roll,” he thought. Apparently, Roger
had a similar observation.

Roger: “Dude, there’s a lot of fucking money
out there all of a sudden.”

Alex: “I was just noticing that. Smoke ‘em if
you got ‘em, I guess.”

Dealer: “Dice are out.”

Alex (beginning to bob his head): “Oooh, ooh,
aaah, aaah.”

Kelly: “Let’s go, Gary.”

Natasha: “Come on, shooter.”

Roger: “Go, G-Balls. Numbers, numbers,
numbers.”

Alex (getting into the three-point stance and
nearly humping the ground): “OOOH, OOOH , OOOH, OOOH, AAAH, AAAH,
AAAH, AAAH!”

Berlin: “Come
on, baby. Do it for us.”

Roger slapped Alex on his ass: “Hey, over
there, is that Mike? Check it out, walking by the sports book.”

Alex stood up on his toes to get a better
look over the slot machines: “Holy shit. It is. It’s Sourpuss.
Should we call him over here?”

Roger: “It looks like he is with
someone.”

Alex: “Yes. Hold on. Isn’t that? . . . My God
. . . It is. That’s the biscuit from the In ‘N Out burger.
Tara.”

Roger: “Damn, she is looking fine. You may
need to rethink your fast food uniform fetish. She looks a hell of
a lot better in a mini-dress.”

Alex: “Fuckin’ A. Absolutely incredible. She
is indisputably the Queen of Vegas. At least for tonight.”

Roger: “Makes you wonder how she ended up
with Mike.”

Alex: “All I can say is, Wow!”

Roger: “Yeah.”

Alex: “Seriously. Wow!”

Roger: “From now on, I am eating every meal
at In ‘N Out.”

Alex: “Yeah, those are good burgers. Jesus.
Who is the big fucking winner in the casino now?”

Roger: “Mikey is.”

Alex: “Yep. Mikey is.”

As they watched, Mike and Tara stopped
walking in front of the elevator bank that led to the guest rooms.
They held hands, facing each other and staring into each other’s
eyes. They began to kiss, slowly at first; then it rapidly evolved
into a sloppy make-out session with Mike’s hands groping clumsily
all over her ass.

Alex: “Check it out. Mikey, you sneaky little
cooze-commando. You go, boy.”

Roger: “Amazing.”

Alex: “You see, I told you everything always
works out.”

Roger and Alex continued to be engaged by the
romance of their friend and his beautiful companion, temporarily
oblivious to the craps game. They watched quietly as Tara led him
by the hand to the guest room elevators and hit the call button.
One opened immediately and she dragged him inside. They started
kissing again, her hand moving to the crotch area of his jeans.
With that, the silver elevator doors slid shut. The next chapter
would be their own.

Because he rolled it, Gary saw it first. “Ah,
fuck,” he mumbled.

Roger and Alex were still staring stupidly at
the elevator door and didn’t register what happened until they
heard the dealer make the call, “Seven. Seven out. Line away.”
Alex’s eyes immediately shifted back to the craps table,
frantically searching for the dice. He saw a two at the far end of
the table, and then, sure enough, located the other die leaning up
against the dealer’s stacks of chips. It came to rest at nearly a
forty-five degree angle, but there was no doubt it was a five.

Their response was simultaneous.

Roger: “Thumper the God-damned Rumper Humper!
Fuck me slowly.”

Alex: “No. No. No. No. Schweddy, Schweddy
Fucking Balls!”

THE END

###

Thanks for reading 333 Miles. If you liked
it, please share it with your friends. 333 Miles is available in
print at most major online retailers. Any comments? Please let me
know at [email protected].

Sincerely,

Craig Birk