The following morning I woke up in the desert. Literally on the ground in the sand. As was becoming all too frequent, I had no idea how I got there. I had pissed myself and I absolutely reeked of booze. A crushed cigar and a nearly empty bottle of vodka were on the ground next to me. My clothes looked as if someone had dragged me behind a freight train for miles. That’s how I felt, too. Perhaps somebody took me for a ride and dumped me here. Or maybe this was near the last stop on the bus route and the driver had kicked me out. Again, who knows? I stood up to get my bearings and immediately heaved a bellyful of stagnant booze into the sand.
I was not far from civilization. About fifty feet to the west was a road that ran north-south, and about three miles beyond that were the high-rise casinos and hotels of the Strip. I touched my face, which was swollen and bruised from the many hooks and crosses that Patrick Cote had landed twelve hours earlier. Behind me, the sun had just begun to peek over the rugged Nevada landscape. I reached into my pocket and, though my wallet was predictably missing, found a pack of Marlboro Mediums and a lighter. Thank god. I lit a cigarette, took a puff, and slowly staggered back toward Las Vegas.
crazy shit, i'm not sure when the book comes out but i'll probably pick it up
I was not far from civilization. About fifty feet to the west was a road that ran north-south, and about three miles beyond that were the high-rise casinos and hotels of the Strip. I touched my face, which was swollen and bruised from the many hooks and crosses that Patrick Cote had landed twelve hours earlier. Behind me, the sun had just begun to peek over the rugged Nevada landscape. I reached into my pocket and, though my wallet was predictably missing, found a pack of Marlboro Mediums and a lighter. Thank god. I lit a cigarette, took a puff, and slowly staggered back toward Las Vegas.
crazy shit, i'm not sure when the book comes out but i'll probably pick it up
