***
We arrived at the airport thirty minutes later. I hadn’t been to the airport that often, but I knew enough to know we were not going the regular way. I could see the departure terminal, but we were not driving towards it. “Hey, where are we going?” I asked in confusion.
“Trevor, have I ever let you down before?” Steve asked.
“No.”
“Alright then. You’ve seen my apartment, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ve seen my cars, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re in a limo tonight, right?”
“Okay?”
“My friend, you have only experienced a little taste of what my lifestyle is like, just a nibble.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Now let me ask you something, sir. Do I look like a man who flies commercial?” Steve said. It was as if he had timed it perfectly. The limo pulled around a row of hangars and I saw a private jet being fueled in one of the hangars.
“Oh my god!” I blurted out in amazement.
The guys all chuckled. “I thought you might like that. Welcome to the good life, sir!”
We quickly finished our drinks, raced out of the limo, and piled into the plane. Every last detail of the plane gave off the image of success. The spotless black carpet complemented the rich mahogany wood. There were about a half a dozen large white leather captain’s chairs in the plane, including a couch with throw pillows, and a bedroom at the back. Some of the seats had their own desk and TV. There was also a full bar, which I was sure was about to get a lot of use. It was unlike anything I had ever seen in a plane before. I took a seat and was now facing a 50″ LED TV screen. Steve grabbed the remote and turned the TV on. He flipped to a sports station and ironically, it was playing the World Series of Poker in Las Vegas. He muted the volume and put on some music.
It was hard for me to comprehend this whole experience. It didn’t seem real. I was completely overwhelmed and was very quiet, a sign I was out of my comfort zone. Everything seemed so nice and new. I looked at the impeccable carpet and recalled the dirty apartment I had in Vancouver with the orange shag carpet. If someone had told me back then that in a few years, I would be flying to Las Vegas in a private jet, I would have thought they were crazy.
“This is your captain speaking,” a voice announced over the PA system. “Gentlemen, we’ll be reaching an altitude of thirty three thousand feet on a non-stop flight to Las Vegas. Please make sure your seat belts are secure as we are about to prepare for takeoff.”
The plane maneuvered into position then accelerated down the runway at an alarming speed. A few moments later, we had liftoff. I looked out my window and saw the city lights below getting more and more distant. I imagined what my classmates were doing. Most of them were probably at home studying, oblivious to the fact I was flying over them in a private jet.
A few hours later, another message broadcasted over the PA system. “Hello, this is your captain speaking. We are approaching our destination. We will begin to reduce altitude, please fasten your seat belts.”
The tires hit the runway smoothly and I felt an immediate pullback from the massive stopping power of the plane. We went from 400 miles per hour to a crawl in less than twenty seconds. Our excitement was escalating in anticipation. During the flight, we had continued to party and were completely drunk by the time we landed. We spilled out of the plane and felt the warm Las Vegas air hit our faces. I took a deep breath and stretched my arms. I could get used to this lifestyle, I thought.
Steve seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself as the host of our little adventure to wonderland. He had probably done this a hundred times, but he seemed to find pleasure in bringing this lifestyle to others who weren't as fortunate. He exited the plane last and stood at the top of the stairs of the G550 plane.
“Gentlemen,” he shouted out to us down below as if he was the king of the castle. We all turned around, eager to discover what was in store for us next. “Since we are all gentlemen here,” he announced, “I think it only seems fitting we begin our evening with an elegant trip to the gentlemen’s club. What do you say boys?” he yelled, like a coach trying to rally his team. Steve came down the stairs and was congratulated for planning such a spectacular night.
“The limo awaits, sirs.” Steve extended his arm toward another shiny black limousine. We stepped into the limo and sped off toward the bright lights.
C H A P T E R
T H I R T Y - S E V E N
As we drove through the Vegas strip, I was starting to see why Steve came here so much. My eyes darted around trying to take in as much as possible. The bright lights created an ambience like I was in a fantasyland. So far, the mystique of Las Vegas was living up to the hype.
“We’re here,” Steve proudly announced, as we pulled up to the Tiger Room Gentlemen’s Club.
“You’re going to love it here, Trevor, just you wait. The women here are the best,” Steve exclaimed. “And they will do something strange for a little change, if you know what I mean.”
Inside the gentlemen’s club, it was everything I imagined. Scantily clad women were hoisted in the air on giant swings, women in cages, women on stage, and of course, a room full of drunken perverted men. I wasn’t sure how many of them were actually gentlemen, but I was there too, so I was not in a position to pass judgment.
Steve said something to the hostess, and an exchange took place. He turned around and winked. Instantly, we were led to our private booth. Steve whispered something else into the hostess’ ear and then she left. I generally liked to be in control of the situation, but I was not complaining. I was happy to just sit back and let Steve do his thing. This was his world and he was in his element. A few minutes later, a server returned with a tray of eight overflowing shot glasses. She unloaded them onto the table so we each had two apiece. We all took one and raised it in the air.
“To the good life!” Steve yelled out over the loud music. We each put a glass to our lips and quickly tilted our heads back.
“Come on guys, we got one more, let’s do this.”
We all grabbed our second shots and followed Steve’s instructions. By this time, we were all thoroughly wasted.
“So where are the women, Steve?” Jeremy called out.
Steve didn’t say anything; he just gave me a sinister smile, like a mastermind who was watching his elaborate plan unfold. Just then, two beautiful exotic women came over. By my guess, they appeared to be of Russian descent. They brought a couple of their friends as well. Steve leaned across the table and asked me, “Will they do?”
I quickly evaluated the women who were being presented to me, as if I was a powerful emperor. I gave a quick nod and a smile to display my approval.
“Come on, dude, let’s go, get up,” Steve said.
I wasn’t really sure what was in store for me, but I had an idea. We both rose from the table and I followed Steve and the two Russian women. Just to the right of the bar was a small inconspicuous doorway labeled ‘PRIVATE’. The two women led us through the doorway, down a dimly lit corridor where they finally presented us with our own private room. One of the girls gestured for us to go in. Steve looked at me like he was the happiest man on the planet and said, “After you, sir.”
I walked into the dark room and noticed a small elevated platform in the centre of the room with a pole that extended to the mirror-covered ceiling. There were a couple of large velvet sofas around the platform so I walked over and took a seat. The walls were black, but were covered in tiny lights, like the night sky. That’s cool, I thought, I should get that for my place.
Steve came over and sat down on the couch to my left.
“You having a good time so far?” he asked me.
“So far, so good.”
“Just wait, you haven’t seen nothin’ yet.”
Another attractive woman entered the room wearing a really short miniskirt and some kind of mesh top. Her bra glowed under t
he black lighting. She came over to us carrying a tray with a couple of drinks on it, but did not say a word. She set the tray down on a small table in between the two couches and then proceeded to disrobe. The two Russian women followed suit. The waitress wasted no time getting friendly with Steve. She straddled his lap and started kissing him. One of the Russian girls tried to do the same with me, but I was very careful not to cheat on my girlfriend, who had popped into my mind more than once that evening.
“Will you excuse me?” I said quietly as I stood up to leave. I don’t think Steve noticed – he was preoccupied with more important matters. I retraced my steps and found my way back to the club.
I saw Dan sitting by himself at our table. “Hey, where’s Jeremy?” I asked.
“I think he went off with some chick. Where’s Steve?”
“He’s in the back having the time of his life.”
“Why aren’t you back there with him?”
“It was too much for me, man. I had to get out of there. Why don’t we take a walk, see if we can find Jeremy.”
“Alright.”
After a few laps around the club, we finally found Jeremy off in a dark corner, making out with some woman. We stayed back and observed the situation before approaching him.
“I can’t really tell from this light, but…” I said, as I leaned in closer, squinting my eyes.
“What? What is it?”
“I’m not sure, but, is that a dude?” I said, now looking back at Dan.
“Where?”
“The one Jeremy is kissing.”
Dan took a few steps closer and then came back. “You know what, I think you’re right, that is a dude!”
“Do you think he knows?” I asked facetiously.
“I would hope not!”
“Should we stop him? He looks like he’s having a good time,” I asked.
“Of course! What if that was you? Wouldn’t you want your buddies to come in and save you?”
“You’re assuming he needs saving. Who knows, maybe he’s into this sort of thing, in which case, it would be wrong for us to interfere.”
The two of us debated back and forth for a while as if we were on opposing sides of a courtroom.
“I think we should at least say something,” Dan said.
“I agree.”
We walked over to where Jeremy was sitting and I tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, Jeremy, I’m sorry to bother you, but can we talk to you for a second, man?”
“Heeeyy! What’s up?” he said, obviously intoxicated. He slowly wobbled up to his feet then whispered something in the transsexual’s ear, probably telling him he would be right back.
“How you doin’, buddy?” I asked.
“I’m great, man,” he slurred.
“Are you having a good time?”
“Yeah, why what’s up, why do you keep asking me if I’m having a good time?”
“There’s no easy way to say this…” I paused for a moment.
“Just say it,” he insisted.
“Jeremy, let me ask you a question. Do you like men?”
“No, dude, what kind of question is that?”
“Jeremy, I hate to tell you this, buddy, but that chick you were kissing isn’t a chick.”
Jeremy’s head whipped around almost as if he had instantly sobered up. He studied the figure in the dark corner. The transsexual knew the jig was up and was noticeably uncomfortable.
“Hey!” Jeremy yelled out. “You’re a dude!”
The transsexual stood up and walked away, doing his best to ignore us.
“Just take it easy, man,” I said to Jeremy. “Just be thankful it didn’t go further.”
“It did, he had his hand on my…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t have to, the look of revolt said it all. “That dude knew exactly what he was doing, Trevor. He preyed on me.”
“I know, buddy, it’s a scary world out there. But you’re safe now,” I said as I consoled him.
We began to walk away. Jeremy was still noticeably perturbed.
“He lured me to that dark corner and forced himself on me. I feel so… violated,” he said as he made a gesture that resembled the birth of a velociraptor.
“Do you feel gay at all?” Dan asked.
“Hey, screw you, man,” Jeremy said.
“Come on, let’s just find Steve and get out of here.”
When we found Steve, we left the Tiger Room and walked down the Vegas strip.
“Do you guys want to grab some food?” Dan asked.
We agreed to go to one of the hotel casinos, eat at the buffet, and do some gambling.
The Art of the Hustle Page 50