Lady Luck rules in Vegas, but where is Elvis?
LAS VEGAS from Pago 5
We milled off the las'. exit,
drove through the last remnants of
what may have once been a city,
and voila: — there it was. Shards of
dizzying blindness shot off every
building, through our wide-open
eyes, am bored their way into our
brains Downtown Las Vegas,
where every day is Christmas, and
. it’s in 'Technicolor.
“Ace’ tumped out of the ear and
ran into the nearest casino, shout
ing at us to meet him then in an
hour.
When we did, he was sitting at a
blackjack table with a Jack n’
Coke and a stack of chips in front of
him. We watched him win some
more chips; then he got up, gave us
a crooked smile and held up the
stack.
“Here’s another 120 bucks,”
quoth “Ace,”downing another free
drink.
That night, we were all to
excited to sleep. Visions of Sugar
plum Blackjack dealers danced in
our heads. We each took off a sock
and hung them on the dashboard of
the Diplomat. Tomorrow was
going to be the first day of our
wonderful new lives.
That next day, we all played lots
of blackjack. We started sometime
that afternoon. By 6 or 7 that night,
all was well. “Ace” had won
enough money to fulfill his prom
ise to buy us hotel rooms, so we
wouldn’t have to sleep in the car
again. “Mel” promised to buy us al 1
flowered Hawaiian tourist shirts,
just like the one he was wearing.
“Earl” had won enough to buy us
all tickets to the Cramps, on New
Year’s Eve in San Francisco. I had
enough to pay everybody’s way in
to see Elvis. All we had to do was
find him. I can’t remember any
more what “Cliff” or “Turtle” were
going to buy, bul they could have.
We didn’t find Elvis that night.
We should’ve left town right
then, but 1 wanted to sla> unul the
next day so we could find Elvis. By
midnight, “Ace” had $100 left,
after having $600 four hours ear
lier. The rest of us thought he’d
done well.
We quickly realized what had
happened. Because of the exces
sive amount of neon in the atmos
phere over the city, any money that
touches air will somehow vanish.
There was nowhere to sit down and
think about this, because the only
chairs in the entire city have slot
machines or Keno cards in front of
i them. The vacuum never shuts off.
We almost had more money. An
old lady at Caesar s Palace sug
gested a quick way for “Cliff’ to
make 500 fastones the hard way, so
to speak. We would’ve tried to talk
him into it, but we figured she
wasn’t responsible enough to keep
the air from touching the money,
and it would’ve disappeared any
way.
With all the gambling every
where arcound you, it’s hard to
find something to do for free, bul
there arc fun games to play.
1. Guess which guys have guns
under their coats. There are three
types, Middle Management, Upper
Management, and Freelance
Thugs. The Freelance Thugs arc
the stupidest and most dangerous,
unless you bother a waitress. In that
case, Middle Management arc the
most dangerous.
2. Guess which girls are hook
ers which are call girls, and which
are just trying to keep up with the
decor. Hookers work for a living, i
and cal 1 girls special ize.
3. Guess who’s really just dis
gustingly filthy rich, and who just
spent two months' salary to buy
ugly clothes and throw money on
the card tables.
See LAS VEGAS on 9
“You ’re what?!”
MOLLY RIXGWALD
RANDALL RATLVKOFF
It’s about sticking around, no matter what.
TRI-STAR PICTURES PRESENTS A JERRY BELSON PRODUCTION
A JOHN G. AVILDSEN FILM MOLLY RINGWALD
“FOR KEEPS' RANDALL BAT1NK0FF KENNETH MARS MUSIC BY BILL CONTI EDITOR JOHN G. AVILDSEN
WRITTEN BY TIM KAZURINSKY it DENISE DtCLUE PRODUCED BY JERRY BELSON AND WALTER COBLENZ U !
directid byjohn g. avildsen mjssst H
mi Born iravci nrllW
i
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