Fayner Posts: I woke up Sunday morning in Vegas feeling dank.
Wait, that’s a lie. I never went to sleep the night before, so I guess I was awake on Sunday morning feeling dank.
I had to leave. Fast.
Dez said he and Alaura would drive me home at noon but since it was now ten and Dez had just left moments ago looking nothing like a guy who would be leaving anywhere soon. Except maybe his own body after an OD.
But that is a story in itself.
I grabbed my trusted phone and started dialing.
TR was working all day, as were most people I know. I thought about waiting a few hours and asking Nadia Styles or some other chicks for a lift but as my drug stash began depleating rapidly I knew if I didn’t get out of Vegas now I may never do so alive.
My dear friend Lola made a call or two for me and secured me a ride with a chick I didn’t know leaving in 30 minutes, but I would have to cab it over to some other hotel and meet the chick.
“I was just downstairs,” I lied, “and the cab line is an hour long. Plus, I broke a wheel on my suitcase plus…”
“She’ll meet you downstairs,” Lola finally said.
Sweet.
The gal was named Leah Luv, a sweet little blonde chick with braces, and although I must say she has endured more than anyone should at her age the girl seemed to me to have her life under control and on the right path.
Maybe it was that I hadn’t slept in days and the only thing I had to eat all week was a handful of TUMS and some old pancakes, but I truly believed Leah has a better grip on her life than pretty much anyone else I know combined.
Leah dropped me off, helped me find the various drugs that had dropped from my AC DC pants under her seat and that was the last I saw of her.
99% of the people I know wouldn’t do shit for me and this quiet little chick with the braces who didn’t know me from Jesus was the only one who got me out of Vegas alive.
And for that I thank her.