When we got back to our room (K had booked separate accommodations from my friends when she arrived and had convinced me to stay with her Thursday night despite my being upset about the mystery blonde), K quickly jumped into the shower first saying she wanted to get downstairs and make arrangements for the ride and dinner.

She was dressed and gone before I finished getting ready leaving me alone in the room to think about the trip thus far – mostly happy thoughts even funny thoughts when I flashed back to the desert throw-down with Bigs and Sug, and I couldnt wait to get the pictures developed. I despised mixed emotions ruling my psyche – still exhilarated from the shoot yet starting to feel sad about the whole vacation ending. Then there was K – I was glad she showed up but I needed answers and it seemed the whole other woman incident was just being swept under the carpet.

The phone rang as I was trying to find my shoes. It was K saying that they were all downstairs and just waiting for me. I grabbed a pair of sandals and headed to the elevator. Despite the late hour I was hungry and wanted to spend as much time as possible with my friends before our trip ended.

As I exited the elevator and walked toward the elaborate entrance of the casino, I could see them – K chatting with the limo driver – a woman – a very attractive woman. I quickly buried any suspicions which were rising about K, limos, and beautiful woman because K looked stunning! She was wearing a white pant suit – a short, sleeveless vest with no blouse underneath and several inches of her flat Golds Gym abdomen visible above the low cut linen trousers. A form fitting blazer completed the ensemble which was accessorized by silver jewelry around her neck and wrists. Gawd, she was hot.

I walked up behind her and ran my hand up and down her arm indicating my arrival. Hey babe. Ready? You look fabulous – I think I might be underdressed, (in my Dockers and tank top – white of course – with a hooded zipper sweatshirt jacket) I was leaning into her body just slightly.

Oh hey, hon, she turned and gave me a kiss on my cheek. You look great, dont worry. I want you to meet our driver.

I had caught the womans name and license number on the badge she was wearing on the left breast pocket of her uniform jacket but I still let K do the honors. This is Katey #471. K giggled at her own little joke about the license number – she could be a nitwit sometimes. Katey this is my girlfriend. We shook hands, exchanged pleasantries, and gave each other the subtle once-over.

Katey was just telling me some hilarious stories of interesting fares she has experienced over the years, K said making small talk. She is quite the comedienne.

Im sure she spins a funny story, I replied turning to enter the limo–my sarcasm not lost on either women who simply shrugged their shoulders as they exchanged embarrassed grins at my comment..



Katey stepped quickly behind me and opened the door. I got in, K entering right behind. After I got myself situated on the comfy leather interior, I looked across from me and was startled to see Bigs and Sug already in the limo wearing matching white rhinestone studded pantsuits, black wigs, thick sideburns and sunglasses – holy freakin christ I was facing ELVIS – TWICE — I guess The King wasnt dead after all! Between K and the Presley Twins I felt like the ol high school ***** in the middle of all that virginal white.

The limo pulled out into the street and before I could say WHAT THE *****? in an instant K was on one knee in front of me . OH MY FREAKING GAWD ! I was overwhelmed by the most intense panic/ anxiety attack I had ever experienced knowing I was about to be proposed to !!

She took my cold, clammy hand (the hand of a goner – a dead woman) in one of hers and with the other captured my jaw and turned it toward her, our eyes locked- hers looking into my soul, mine looking for a way out.

K knows Im not much on mush and sentiment so she kept it short and sweet .Good thing, too since I was about to keel over from a combination of a heart attack and respitory failure.

Babe, this has to end, (THANK GAWD, I THOUGHT TO MYSELF – SHES BREAKING IT OFF !) I want it to end (THANK YOU JESUS– ME TOO !) All the doubts and the hesitancy you feel about committing has got to stop (OH MY GAWD –I AGREE– I AGREE !). Youre the one, the only one. (WHAT??) I want you to marry me tonight, right now, here in Vegas. What do you say, babe, will you marry me?

I let go of Ks hand and turned my head to look out the tinted glass window – a move totally misinterpreted by K. She said nothing as she disappointingly dropped back on her heels, still kneeling in front of me. Two almost inaudible gasps of horror escaped the lips of the twits across the aisle.

In just a matter of a few seconds my life with K flashed before my eyes – not the good stuff and happy times we shared – no – but rather all the self-deprecating stuff that always made me wonder why she stayed with me. Im too old – too fat — cold heart–hot temper–going blind cause I got bifocals this year – losing my teeth – – cant cook – – too opinionated — not educated enough — cant bowl worth a ***** — cant hold my liquor — unlucky at cards — impatient — judgmental — almost voted republican — all the low self-esteem and self-loathing issues I could muster – thats what was streaming through my consciousness.

Her proposal had shaken my emotions but not stirred me to action. All of the flashes were an introspection of my short yet intense relationship with K. I had to make a choice to reconnect with her but worried that once I said yes maybe I wouldnt want her any more. I knew it would be a long road home to happiness, but if it was meant to be maybe I should just give in. I was experiencing a temporary brain lapse – what if I go astray? Would she chase me now or wait 6 months, after the fall, after the damage was done? I was closing back in on reality and thinking what have I done by not answering K – what must she be thinking? I had to make it right.

Only a few seconds had elapsed from the time I let go of Ks hand and turned to look out the window until I returned my gaze to her. I am sure she must have thought it was a lifetime. She was still sitting on her heels on the floor of the limo head bent eyes cast downward, her hands on her thighs.

Oh God, K, I pleaded with her as I cupped her face and forced her to look at me. Honey, its not what you think. Please, listen to me.

She tried to avert her eyes but I made her turn back. I edged my way to the floor of the limo, kneeling beside her.

Jesus, K, you just took by surprise is all. This is so totally unexpected. And all I can think about is how many times and how many ways I shut you out, tried to drive you away, treated liked you like *****. How I am SO not worthy of your love AT ALL. Yet somehow you stayed with me, made me feel so good about myself, about us You chose time after time to come back, to stay, to make us work. And there is no way (a very audible gasp from the lunatic gallery across the aisle), no possible way, K I could disrespect that choice.

I love you babe, and youre the one. And YES I will marry you right here, tonight, in Vegas. Lets just do it!

There was polite golf-clapping , giggling and ooohs and aahhhs from The King clones as well as a huge sigh of relief from K.

Oh my gawd, you guys we are so happy for you two – this is so romantic, Sug and Bigs were dabbing alligator tears from beneath their sunglasses and waving their kerchiefs around like drama queens. (ROMANTIC?? THEY TRULY ARE THE MOST MORONIC DUO I HAVE EVER KNOWN)

K and I helped each other back on to the seat of the limo and kissed like ***** starved teenagers for about two minutes.

Ok, Ok, you two, Bigs cried. Save it for the honeymoon later. Enough already!

By this time the little light bulb was going off in my head and I was beginning to realize the planning and secrecy these three friends of mine engaged in was to set this up. It became crystal clear to me that the Shooter ploy was just that – a cover for K to meet me in Vegas and get married. It was a genius plan. The only mystery remaining was the blonde bombshell.

TCB . . .