“Can you believe it, George,” Martha asked, the crescendo of her voice’s soprano creedping across the room all the way to George’s ears. “We got this room at the Hooters Casino for just $79 a night.”
George plopped the luggage on the bed and sighed. He squinted. As soon as they’d landed in Vegas, he’d put sunscreen on his face and head, but schwitzing all the way from the parking lot across the street, it’d run down into his eyes. And they burned.
“That’d be a fortune back in Dubuque, Martha. And even parking across the street’s costing us $15 a day. Highway robbery, paying that much to park. You’d think I was made of money.”
Martha took her wig off – a Marlo Thomas flip-up – and put it on its stand on the dresser. She put a comb through her flattened hair. “Now, George, don’t complain. This is a once in a lifetime trip, sweetheart. Look here, George, the hotel has a buffet and it’s only $11.95 if we don’t drink. All you can eat.”
“Well, four days here will set us back nearly a thousand,” George said, feeling the butterflies creep back into his stomach. “Don’t know how we’ll pay the credit card bill when we get home, don’t know how.”
Martha put the brush down. The furniture had glass tops on it. “Maybe we’ll go across the street and make some money on the slot machines.”
“And maybe we’ll grow wings and fly back home ourselves. Then I can haggle with Southwest to refund us the unused airline tickets.”
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