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Blondie Pop came to Vegas! Her first time traveling out of town to see him and my first time having another chick with me. I was, as per the program, very hungover from the fourteen hours of non-stop drinking/drugging the day before. On top of which, my period started while I was fucking The Texan (arriving early), and I was feeling its full weight of agony the day she arrived. I was happy to see her, I was not happy with my body. Before she flew in, I went to my yearly pilgrimage to the Peppermill…it was awful. I forgot it was a holiday. It was packed to the gills. I wasn’t feeling one bit of it. I retreated to the large corner suite, trying to muscle myself into the shower. She was set to arrive at 5 p.m.

I showered and applied makeup. I was proud of myself. I felt like shit but I looked pretty, by some miracle. It took her a while to navigate the airport and labyrinth hotel. She arrived a smidge later than expected. I was grateful for the extra time. My uterus felt like it was falling out of me! She was an hour behind. That’s a “smidge” according to on-the-clock-hooker-time when there’s no dire rush.

BP hadn’t been to Vegas for years, and if I’m not mistaken, this was her first trip out of town since she had her baby. She was ready to party. I was her entertainment/guide until he met us later after a work thing. We had dinner reservations at Hugo’s. I asked if she wanted to do anything specific. She said no. When I told her about my local’s bar downtown, she said it sounded perfect. I was beyond relieved. I was in no shape to do any of the bullshit tourist options. We caught a taxi downtown. We looked cute. She loved the bar. I was thankful because honestly, I didn’t have the energy to find a new joint. All my serotonin was left behind at Play It Again Sam’s the day before.

{to be continued}

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