The room was comfortable – the view not too sexy. Basically, a host of roofs adjacent to our building with armies of air conditioning condensers aligned in no particular metric that made sense to me. Surprising that for all the desperate people on the strip crammed into the casinos, these roofs looked rather desolate and lonely. An occasional plastic bottle off in the distance but that was the extent of human residue beyond the AC and tar. Maybe a random shoe.

She quietly told me she wanted to undress and shower. Rather deadpan and matter of fact. No coy suggestions or even a wink. I nodded and opened the minibar settling on an obnoxiously overpriced small bottle of vodka. And I grabbed a gin, too. I had wanted ice but felt too goddamn lazy to wander down the hall. Sipping right from the plastic provided the temporary needed edge after quickly exchanging our nuptials in that cheesy chapel.

Both elixirs went down quite easily, and I smiled as I wiped my mouth on my cheap sports coat. At least, that’s what she said. And outdated. Whatever. Not like we were doing this at The Ritz.

I laid back and stared at a small spider on the ceiling above our bed. If only that little fucker could talk – especially in this town. The air conditioner had a nice hum to it and I felt pretty good. Hadn’t fully digested what I did, what we just did, and what that now all means?

“Couldn’t even stay up on our wedding night!”

I must’ve fallen asleep while she was showering. Shit!

And that’s how it all started.