Clark County was supposed to be her salvation. Instead it became her handicap.
When she got the call from her cousin that this town called Las Vegas was wide open with possibility, she hopped on the first bus clutching a suitcase and Harlequin.
Over the course of the four-day bus trip, she wondered what kind of job ol' cuz would land her. As a medium-shot for a gambling hall somewhere in the desert, maybe he'd get her something in the casino office, she thought. Even though her steno skills were just moderate, she did learn to type pretty well. At least that's what Mr. Bellog, her typing teacher, always said. But then again, he was sweet on her.
When she arrived at the dusty terminal, her cuz wasn't there. He was late. But he wasn't lying - he did have a job for her - as a counter girl in the casino's all-night coffee shop. She lasted just three days and when Gus the manager fired her, she knew what she needed to do.
She brought out only two dresses. Figuring the red one would entice the most, she headed into the lounge and straddled up to the first put-together gentleman she saw at the bar.
As she was escorted out by a patrolman, she realized she couldn't even do that right.
Sitting in the cell alone, all she kept thinking about was the money she wasn't making.