It was the weekend before Christmas. It was late Sunday afternoon, and I had lost a bundle at tables in Reno. Blackjack, roulette, craps, it hadn't mattered. I'd lost at all of them. Might as well head home, I thought, disappointed and disgruntled. Nice Christmas present.
As I left Virginia Street and pulled onto Interstate 80, I saw the sky was sullen with clouds. The clouds were the color of tarnished silver. Down from the Sierra a swift winter storm was moving in.
Great, I thought! Just what I needed to end an otherwise perfectly terrible weekend.
Leaving Boomtown behind, I peered carefully out my front window. The snow flurries thickened. The snow snapped like tiny beads against my windshield. The wind buffeted my car. Snow and ice glistened on the highway.
Suddenly, I hit a slippery spot on the road. I felt myself lose control, and slowly, as in a dream sequence, the car languidly spun around and around as if it were a gigantic steel ballet dancer. Before I knew what was happening I slid down into a huge ditch between the east and westbound lanes of the freeway and promptly got stuck.
A bit shaken at first, I explored my limbs. I was unhurt. However, I was completely stuck in snow in the ditch that had been accumulating for a month. For a moment I thought about what to do. The motor still hummed, keeping the heater blowing warm air into the interior. However, it was quickly evident to me that I could not stay here for long.
Perfect, I muttered, just perfect! The perfect ending to my trip.
I glanced up, and saw a car stop on the other side of the highway, pointed towards Reno. For me! Who said there weren't any nice guys left in the world? I wondered.
Pulling my jacket around my throat, I turned off the engine and ran to the waiting car. The wind roared around my ears and made my face numb instantly. Gasping, I jerked open the other door and slid in.
"Thanks," I muttered, panting as I slammed the door and the snow diminished on the other side of the window.
"No problem," she said.
She??
I did a double take. There behind the steering wheel, smiling at me, was . . . what was she? Had I died in the snowstorm and gone to? . . . no, no chance of that. At least for me. While I pondered her, wide-eyed, she held out a small, well-manicured hand.
"Hi, I'm Lori," she said.
She was a compact little darling, perhaps five foot two or three. She had almond eyes that in the uncertain light of the storm looked gray one moment and silver the next. She had dark brown hair with hints of red that reminded me of cedar stained dark by rain.
"Do you always stare like that?" she asked, a good-humored smile perking her luscious full lips.
"No, no," I stammered. "Thanks a lot for picking me up. I just didn't expect a woman to be doing the picking."
"Being a dealer, I think I can handle myself pretty well," she replied. "Besides, I thought you might be a dealer."
"Not me," I said ruefully. "I'm the one who pays the dealers' salaries . . . at least this weekend."
She laughed, and her voice had a magical quality about it, a lightness that said she didn't take anything too seriously. She started up her car. "I'm going to work downtown," she said. "Where can I drop you?"
I pondered. "Reno is filled to the rafters with people who aren't going to try to make it home."
She nodded. "True."
I shrugged. "I guess it really doesn't matter. Drop me off where you work. I'll ask around some of the sleazier motels near the casinos. See if any of them have a fleabag they can let me have during for the night."
Lori hesitated. "Look. The casino where I work holds back a few rooms for the employees that the general public doesn't know about. I'll see if I can get you one."
Surprised, I gazed at her again. "That would be very kind of you, but I can find a room for myself," I said
"Whatever you say," she replied, and her laughter, almost like sparkling snowfall, filled the car again.
Lori waited for me in the parking lot as I asked about a room.
"Sure," said an old geezer whose five o-clock shadow looked more like a midnight shadow. "That will be a hundred and eighty-five a night."