A Conversation...

I've never been to Vegas. Not only that, I've never been to Foxwoods either. Why? I never did like gambling. The first and last time I ever did it was at the dog track in Lincoln. My friend Mike and I went there out of curiosity and after looking at the sheet and not understanding the odds boards, I selected a dog. I lost. I picked another dog in the forthcoming race and lost that too.

I thought to myself, “Where's the fun in this?”

Since I never have been to Vegas I have to be told about it and a friend, Dave, tells me. One feature that made me think were the escorts you can employ.

I asked how much it costs and was told that it “depends.” Normally, it's the “quality” of the girl, what you want and for how long.

“You can pick up a street skank for $100 or you can blow $2,000 on a nice one for the whole weekend.” Dave tells me. He seemed a bit too knowledgeable in this subject and I didn't bother to ask if he ever did it.

He goes on, “If you get a decent reputation with the escort service by paying on time and you seem sane enough, they'll open up some and invite you into other things. Some have a catalog they'll send over to your hotel room. You can flip the pages and pick out the girl you want, hopefully she'll be available for the time you want.”

I then, after mentally calculating the costs and knowing how his particular marriage is going, ask him which one is superior, a wife or an escort?

He takes a a couple of seconds to think this over and with rapidity, he says: “Escorts.”

I say, “You're shitting me?”

“Nope...think about it..think about me. I just blew a shitload on South Kingston summer home my wife has forever wanted. Plus all the other cash I spent over the years. And it's not just the cash either, think about the other things. Age, appearance, the fact you can drop the escort off on a Sunday afternoon and never see her again and...God, there's a ton of stuff, I could go on and on. Hell, if you want a stunning 20 year old with perky tits, you can get one. My wife's titties, at 40, are all silicone! I bought those too!"

I ask, “What about love?” (Bad question to ask!)

“Love?” What love? You've never been married and you know what happens to that happy/intoxicating love? After a decade it's like a glass of milk left out, on top of a TV, warming up.”

“Love” He says...trailing off as he said the word.

“Look, take my advice...NEVER get married! You'll be wealthier for it and there's less inconvenience. You had a dog right? You had a live in friend that thought you were GOD himself...now try and get a wife to think that about you after ten years!”

I tell him, “Yeah, but I couldn't boff my dog.”

“I've seen your shepherd. He would've torn your nuts and dick off had you attempted. And guess what? A wife can to that mentally, no need for teeth either.”

“You're a eunuch now?”

“Son...there were several times in my married life I was castrated! NO Vegas girl would do that to you, unless you ask for it!”