WOO! Doin’ good. I busted out the NaNo Report Card I used last year and tweaked it for this year, and that’s helping me out a bit, I think. I’m also having a lot more fun now that I’m back in the groove, pumping out words at 1500 or so an hour. Go me. Excerpt below.
Las Vegas was cold at night in the fall, the high daytime desert temperatures giving way to frigid, dry nights. Joe huddled in his jacket and stared out the window at the bright lights of the Strip, wishing he hadn’t come. The hours in the car with Skeeter and Nibbles had been fine, the three of them shooting the shit and Joe working to deflect Skeeter’s constant jabs about Marci. Joe had a three day weekend ahead of him, so it wasn’t that big a deal that he’d come all the way out here for nothing. Plus some day it would probably make a great story: the night Skeeter, Nibbles, and Joe drove to Las Vegas and Joe stayed in the car while Skeeter and Nibbles got their freak on with some (even Joe had to admit) very hot prostitutes.
He reflected that if she heard about this, Marci wouldn’t care if he’d stayed in the car. She didn’t approve of prostitution on principle, believing it was a tool of the Patriarchy to keep women down and men constantly believing they deserved sex on demand. He considered telling her they’d gone to Las Vegas to gamble. Regular casinos couldn’t be on her mental list of great evils, could they? He tried to think back and remember if she’d ever complained about them. He didn’t think so. The one time they’d come up, she seemed to think they were mindless entertainment for stupid people or something similar. She already didn’t like Skeeter and Nibbles much, so she wouldn’t have any trouble believing they’d wanted to go gambling. If she asked, that was what he’d tell her.
After what seemed like ages but was, in reality, less than an hour, Skeeter and Nibbles left their rooms, the prostitutes waving to them from the doorways. The two guys walked to the car in a gait that can only be described as the bastard offspring of a strut and a swagger.
They piled into the front seat. “Oh, man, Joe,” Skeeter drawled, his voice a lot more calm than usual, “you totally missed out. Seriously. Those girls are a-maze-ing.”
Nibbles nodded. “Yep.”
Joe shrugged. “No big. Glad you guys had a good time. Pity you had to pay for it, what with you being unable to actually get, you know, a real girlfriend. Or a pity fuck from most sorority girls.”
