deviancy in cities with populations over five million as compared to those of a million or less. But she could not find any significant differences.
Sarah closed the laptop in frustration and picked up the room service menu. She was beginning to doubt if she would ever finish her dissertation and was starting to lose her drive. She kept finding new holes in her theory that needed to be filled and each time she plugged one hole it created another. She was also worried that all of this research might be the cause of her violent sexual dreams. And if they were real than she didn’t want to rationalize the things that monster had done to her, which is what it felt like she was doing with her research.
Sarah scanned down the menu straight to the deserts. She needed some comfort food. She found some chocolate cake and vanilla fudge ice cream. It was just what she needed. She picked up the remote and turned on the TV. She pushed the menu button and clicked on pay-per-view movies. She needed a good romantic comedy, something silly with Ben Affleck or Hugh Grant. That, along with the ice cream and the cake, was guaranteed to take her mind off her troubles. And if that didn’t work there was always the hotel gym, though she hated running on treadmills. The wind in her face and watching the scenery rush by were part of the thrill of running. But she didn’t feel like battling crowds trying to jog up the Las Vegas strip. Even with the decrease in tourism due to the recession, the strip was still packed like a nightclub on Saturday night.
There were no movies on that Sarah either hadn’t seen or could stomach. As much as she wanted to feel girly and feminine and lose herself in something mindless, she just could not stomach another girl-from-the-wrong- side-of-the-tracks-meets-perfect-rich-gentleman movie. She had her limits. Finally, she settled on a nature documentary about the migration of gray whales. Not what she had in mind but the sound of the ocean and the whale calls were strangely soothing.
She had almost fallen asleep when there was a knock at the door. Sarah’s pulse rate shot up and it suddenly became difficult to breath. She scrambled off the bed, groping for her purse and the loaded .40-caliber pistol inside it.
Sarah’s hands shook as she removed the semiautomatic pistol from her bag, jacked a round into the chamber, cocking it as she walked toward the door.
“Who is it?”
“Room service.”
“Just leave it outside the door.”
“Um…I need you to sign for it.”
Sarah let out a low moan. There was no peephole in the door. She would have to open it to see who was on the other side. She put the chain on the door and put the barrel of the gun against the door as she slid it open, prepared to pull the trigger if it was Dale. She could hear her own heart hammering in her ears.
A young Latino man stood on the other side of the door wearing a red jacket and pushing a cart with a silver tray on it that held her ice cream and cake. She flipped the chain off the door and hid the pistol behind her back.
“Sorry, come on in.”
She opened the door and stepped aside so the waiter could wheel in her dessert.
“Anything else, ma’am?” the waiter asked as he handed her the bill.
Sarah paused and placed her gun on the nightstand, then walked over and took the bill from the waiter. She signed for it and scribbled a generous tip at the bottom, then handed it back. The waiter stole a quick glance at the gun, smiled, then began backing out of the room.
“Thank you. You have a nice night, ma’am.”
Sarah smiled back and followed him to the door, closing it behind him and reengaging the chain lock. After pushing the cart up to the bed, she plopped back down on the bed to eat cake and ice cream and watch gray whales migrate.
Less than an hour went by before she’d had enough. Sarah was bored. She decided to go downstairs to the casino and gamble a bit. She loved playing slot machines but usually resisted the urge. Gambling was a bad hobby to get into when you lived in Las Vegas. She had known more than one friend who’d moved to the city and then had to move back home after a few months of losing their entire paychecks to slot machines and video poker. Maybe she’d play blackjack instead. She wondered if Josh would be surprised or embarrassed or both if she was to sit down at his table to play. She wasn’t sure whether it was legal to play at her husband’s table. It might break some sort of federal gaming laws. She decided not to risk it. She could always play at the table next to him. That might even be more fun, she thought. It would drive him crazy to see her there.
Sarah stood up and started getting dressed. She considered wearing a miniskirt with no panties but was just not in the mood to call sexual attention to herself. She had the irrational fear that even there in the casino Dale might still be watching her. She couldn’t stand the idea of him staring at her from across the casino and getting aroused. Right now, the idea of anyone getting aroused by her felt creepy, scary.
Instead of the miniskirt she picked up a pair of sweat-pants and slid on some flip-flops. She pulled Josh’s favorite college T-shirt on over her head. She looked about as unsexy as could be. She decided to at least do her hair and makeup.
She grabbed her makeup bag and pulled out lipstick, blush, mascara, and eye shadow. She sprayed a little too much perfume on her neck, then wiped it off with her hand and rubbed it between her breasts and onto her thighs. Sarah laughed at herself. For someone with no interest in having sex she was acting like she were getting ready for a booty call.
Her lipstick was a light pink from M-A-C Cosmetics called “Barely Legal.” She rubbed it on her lips, then puckered in the mirror. She brushed out her long eyelashes until they were fluffy and thick and gave her eyes a sultry sleepy look. She added a dark shimmering plum eye shadow and outlined her eyes with a thick eyeliner that further darkened her eyes.
Sarah smiled. Even in sweatpants and a T-shirt she still looked fuckable. Her smile faltered as she once again thought about Dale. For a second she even considered wiping off all the makeup. She shook it off.
The gun still sat on the nightstand and Sarah looked at it for a long moment, trying to decide before she picked it up and popped it into her Coach purse. She grabbed her hotel key and walked out the door, making sure she closed it firmly behind her before she walked off toward the elevator.
As Sarah made her way down the hall to the elevator a man stepped out of his room just as she passed his door and Sarah jumped and groped for her purse, trying to open it and get at her gun. Just as she realized that he was no threat, just a guy heading down to the casino, she also realized that, had he been Dale or some other rapist, he would have been all over her before she could have gotten to her pistol. It made her feel a lot less secure and made the ride down to the elevator a lot more tense and terrifying. Sarah had her hand in her purse the entire time with her finger lightly touching the trigger guard. When the man smiled at her she almost pulled the trigger.
The Hollywood Galaxy Casino was one of the newest hotel/casinos on the strip. It had pictures and memorabilia of famous Hollywood and recording stars all over the walls and in glass cases placed strategically throughout the casino. There were statues dressed in clothes almost as famous as the stars who had originally worn them. Clark Gable’s clothes from
Sarah hadn’t been in the casino for months and she found herself walking around like a tourist, staring wide- eyed at the photos of old Motown stars and eighties heavy-metal hair bands. The casino wasn’t as full as she remembered from the last time she’d been there. There were almost as many locals as tourists, which was a bad sign for a casino on Las Vegas Boulevard whose main trade were the steady tide of out-of-town guests who came here to blow off steam, get drunk, gamble, patronize the many strip clubs on Industrial Avenue just one block over from Las Vegas Boulevard and the even more numerous call girls and prostitutes who lined the hotel bars after midnight. Sarah wondered how the prostitution trade was faring during the recession. Had they likewise discounted their services like every other retail industry? Were they now giving two-for-one hand jobs and blow jobs? Fifty percent off on anal with a free golden shower?
Sarah chuckled as she wound her way through the casino. The idea of discount pussy was just hilarious to her. She wondered why anyone would have bothered raping her when they could have had a professional willing to
