Sex

By Hank Fredo

Wedged between a rock and hard times, Hank finds himself in Las Vegas—the City of Sins. There he finds himself in the midst of people who would do anything to get ahead and those who'd make him seek pleasure unlike before. In the struggle to survive and write, Hank experiences more than he thought the Las Vegas could ever give.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Seagull Editions
• Release date: May 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223926191

Book preview

And at last, I see the City

They say life has so many branching parts. Some of these paths take you to good fortunes and some take you to places you can only assume is hell. Las Vegas wasn’t hell. It was more like a rehearsal for what the real deal would look like. It was perfect for those who had nothing to do with their lives except drink, gamble and fuck. It is nothing like Los Angeles were the good and the bad walks hand in hand. Las Vegas was all bad in the 90s. It made people bad too, and they loved the beautiful city for it.

I understood that the first second I stepped into the city. The chaos there was why people rushed to it. They enjoyed the thrill of being turned, cooked and screwed. Las Vegas made some really rich men poor and made some sensible people make bad decisions. The truth was that people wanted to feel alive, and that beloved Sin City gave them all the fire they could ever need. 

Why was I there?

Often I asked myself that. I could have gone to any other place in the country. Why did I stumble there? There is no real answer except the practical one. Work. The city had work, so much that it was the center of great opportunities. Not very clean, high-brow jobs though. But with the mess I was in at the time, it didn’t matter. I needed money, any money I could find.

If you ask me though, seriously, why I was in Las Vegas. I’d say it was fate.

I have always loved the Ocean. It completely resonates with me. Back then I loved to watch it move, the blue swelling and calming like a huge chest breathing sometimes. I always wanted to see the coast. You know, sit somewhere and watch the ocean. It sounds dreamy, but I was dreamy. I still am. I wonder what we would have left of life if we don’t dream.

Like I said, I loved to watch the Ocean. Yet I never got to actually do it. Whenever I made up my mind to get there, something would always spring up like in those obstacle games and I’d have to do something else instead of doing what I set out to do initially.

That was how I found myself in Vegas. The decision was completely on the whim. That morning, I thought I would drive out to the ocean and the next moment I was looking at the kaleidoscopic view of Las Vegas. Its many colors flitting and unoriginal. Casinos and bars flanking the streets like prostitutes.

I had been in many situations like that before—doing something completely different from what I wanted to do originally. But Las Vegas was different. The first few days were the worst of my life. I had friends there before, so that helped.

But work was difficult to get. I didn’t know how to get them at first. I knew the city had jobs—shitty ones, but still they were there. I just didn’t know who to meet or talk to.

Then I remembered Kanuma. We had not talked for so long and I was really out of my depth. I was twenty five and it was the freaking 90s. You had to know someone to get meaningful thing done.

Las Vegas is the only city I know that shines even with its worst look. At night, the city glows so many colors that it is almost annoying if you pay attention to it. Different establishments with their neon signs—some blinking and some ridiculously bright. All done to pull those stupid enough to spend their cash chasing mirages and good fortunes.

In the morning, however, everyone is either hungover or tired. The night’s merry and adventure had dulled or screwed them. Yet, the lights are still on. Where the casinos are gone, the five star diners and restaurant rear their heads up.

One time, a friend said Las Vegas is where rich folks go to brag and middle class people go to lose what little cash they have. He was not awfully off the mark. The advantage I had was that I hated gambling. Hate might be too strong a word, but I didn’t like the act. I watched people melt into despair after losing all of their money and sometimes possessions. It was sickening, knowing that they would pick themselves up and I would find them at a Roulette table again.

And I was poor too. Although I liked thrill and fun, I had nothing to fund the experience. I was too focused on getting myself back up on my feet to be distracted by the sampled cleavage and tight ass skirts most of the women there wore.

Almost everything could be gotten for a price—food, sex, momentary happiness. They were all up for grabs. Yet what I wanted was to find job where I could sit in my space and write. Or read. Something that didn’t mix me up with half the turds in the city.

We don’t always get what we want. I learnt that earlier, when I was a kid. I knew to manage what I got, turn it into something beautiful and amazing. That was my mantra. While chasing what I wanted, all I had to do was make what I had the best thing ever.

What a load of crap!

I got a job working in a construction site. Try making that into anything other than what it was. It was grueling and tasking. I knew and expected it to be, but it drained most of the happiness I had built up and relied on. Kanuna helped though.  He gave me some advice and tips on how to survive being in a city that had no love for poor, broke writers like me.

The first job I had lasted about two weeks. Kanuna had to call a friend for that one. I was with him when he made the call. He had to promise and beg, giving his words that I would be good. It sounded like he was asking for a loan or something.

The job payed relatively well, according to Kanuna. I remember him smiling as he told me it would pay twenty five dollars hourly.  His face was round, brown and his smile reached his eyes. He was happy for me and I appreciated it.

You don’t have to think much of it, Hank. You start here today, tomorrow will be something better, Kanuna said in his low voice that sounded Indian when he spoke like that. He smiled, his large frame looking odd with that smile.

I nodded, although I didn’t agree with what he said. I didn’t exactly feel sorry for myself, but by that time, I wasn’t interested in well wishes and wishful thinking. I was facing the reality in front of me. Tomorrow I would still be working with about