I wrote this while sitting in the Paris Hotel, tapping away on my iPhone while Vegas continued to unfold around me. I’m not much of a gambler, but I love betting on basketball. After my favourite team, the Spurs, were killed by the Rockets in the previous Christmas Day game, I was looking for a Warriors win to turn my luck around. This is what happened as I sat at the bar below the Eiffel Tower.
I sit below the imitation Eiffel Tower on Christmas Day, watching the Clippers-Warriors game while a girl in lingerie and a Santa hat dances on a bar. I’m watching the game to see if I’ll win any money, after losing on Rockets-Spurs. I’m watching the girl, wondering if the Santa hat is what a stripper usually wears on Christmas. I move closer to get a better view. The girl has a full sleeve in teal that matches her bra. I wonder if it’s a coincidence. There’s 4:30 left in the game. I need the Warriors to win by at least three. I decide I’m a better dance than the girl on the bar and watch DeAndre Jordan air ball his first free throw. He makes his second.
I watch the game like I’m disinterested, hoping it will keep luck on my side, and I drink my free White Russian. (Always a White Russian, and always free in Vegas casinos.) Steph Curry plays with his mouth guard. I play with my lipstick covered straw. CP3 puts the Clippers up. Steph Curry makes a three, and the Warriors are up by two. The dancer spins with dollar bills in her fishnet thigh highs. Who does she dance for? The crowd is disinterested, playing slot machines at the bar. ‘One more,’ I pray as I look back to the game. The crowd in Oakland goes wild.
‘Hot in Here’ plays over the speakers. The girl has stopped dancing and the game is on a commercial break. I’m next to a man whose cigarette smells like tequila, or a man who smells like tequila. She returns to her little runway, shaking her tasseled hips.
One minute left. Her pace increases.
Twenty second. My feet tingle and the smoke around me thickens.
Eight seconds, Warriors up by two. My red lipstick is smeared all over my palm. The dancers greets the men below her. Her two man audience.
Warriors win by two. I lose twice tonight. She talks to her audience again and gets nothing out of it. I wipe my lipstick palm on a napkin. I hate this city.
Song of the Day: Straight To the Top (Vegas) by Tom Waits
