Shuffles spies a weirdo or old and weird in Las Vegas
By Royal Hopper
The eyes of the tired old gambler ( lets call him Shuffles or old scary gambler guy if you want) widen with fright as he stands at a Sin City bus stop next to an off duty storm trooper picture poser and a slumbering drunken accountant soon to awake sober but without his vacation money wedding ring or gold watch, but with a business card from a dancer named Wild Cherry in his pocket.
Shuffles, shuffles across the gray expanse of Sin City sidewalk stepping over the flyers advertising exotic dancers named Chocolate Brownie, Vanilla Flake and Gina.. (Yeah I don’t really get it either) away from the object of his terror a shadowy figure visible through the perforated metal of the bus stop bench.
Four decades in the city of Sin have taken their toll and muttering under his breath he baby steps several more yards across the ancient beer soaked concrete shuffling his old travel worn feet as fast as they will go in his $10 Chuck Taylor “Tennis Shoes,”
He stops only briefly wheezing with the effort of walking the 9 feet to where the security guard whose attention he sought was standing at and attempts a clipped Sin City greeting.
“She is sitting in the chair saying all kinds of crazy stuff,” said the man pointing at a nearby bus stop where the outline of a female figure
The metal shrouded figure moves a bit staring at the pair through the many small round holes in the metal bench perhaps turning around to look at Shuffles as he approached the guard.
“That is county property,” replied the security guard squinting as he strained to hear the frail voice of the Sin City retiree. The guard was painfully aware of the fact that the man standing before him clothed in the patchwork wardrobe of logo bearing novelty item free giveaways could one day be him.
Shuffles, having seen his better days when disco was young and Wild Cherry was the name of a one hit wonder 70s Funk band and not the well used young woman in the leopard skin bikini and hip length shiny fake leather boots squinted with disapproval looking back to the bus stop as a blonde rent a cheerleader in a hand me down skating tights and a yellow tutu strolled up the stops metal bench.
“But she sitting there shaking and saying all kinds of crazy stuff,” he said. . . Shuffles sighed the sigh of the hopeless and shuffled slowly away to wait inside the casino for the next city bus to take the crazy woman who was gibbering to herself and shaking to the next bus stop.
Sometimes just waiting for the next bus is the only way to get away from people who are even weirder than you and your patchwork free giveaway logo that is your wardrobe and life your Star Wars costumes and your leopard skin bikini and leather boots.
What is the moral of this tale. I don’t have a damn idea except that maybe when crazy old people call you crazy and old maybe you are crazy and old.
So long fellow Sinner until next time