There’s a woven-ness to this tale of little hooker chicks in Vegas. Think of them as high-class call girls, or slinky underage fuck things, but really…they’re just whores. We all are in Joe McGinniss’ portrait of the world.
Chase is a high school teacher, an educator of young minds. Chase is an artist, a painter. His work is what we look to, for inspiration and meaning in our little lives. Chase is the delivery man. He drives school girls to the rich houses where fat old men can buy anything they want.
Things happen…you either go with the flow, or…well, that’s about it. Nobody makes any choices or decisions here, just whatever’s easiest; the path of least resistance. Sex for money, that’s easy. We all wanna get somewhere, be somebody, get rich; ‘cause that way you can buy whatever you want, like sex. It aint love, but it’s as close as you’re ever gonna get in Las Vegas. And it feels good; that’s what counts, as much as anything anyway.
There’s a party, there’re always parties, that’s what life is, one big party. But this one is the National MBA Conference where people separate into their two groups, the Anxious and the Arrived. Later at the Hookah Lounge, Michelle’s making a fool of herself. Michelle, the prettiest girl alive, no limit to what men would pay for her; and all the cash she’s raking in. Talking about her investments, land deals, banks…
The man at the table is laughing at her, to her face. The man who works at the biggest investment firm in New York; sorry, Wells Fargo is a client of his. “If you’re going to make up shit about what you do…don’t be doing it with this group. I don’t give a damn about you’re ‘investments’…just don’t fuck with this group” he says, while his hand is squeezing her knee under the table.
So…who has the last laugh? Or is there any real difference between a millionaire buying sex and a school girl selling it? You see, we’re all just whores, and we’ll all do anything for money.
But in the woven-ness of the story, all this didn’t just happen out of the blue or the sun-scorched desert air. For some reason or every reason, there’re no parents here, no guidance or leaders of any sort. Chase’s mom is a useless lush, dad’s gone, he was always gone. Same for everybody else. Hunter’s dad likes Chase, likes to gaze into his eyes and rub his back and his neck. But he owns part of a casino, so…that’s how it is.
The only one who seems to be aware of whatever it is that’s going on, is Chase. And it’s all so much bigger than just one man, to try and go against the tide. Why bother? His beautiful MBA girlfriend calls to tell him she’s pregnant. And what can he say, after hours and days of trying to talk this out, and making deliveries; after all he has seen and done, all that’s happening, and all of it spinning mindlessly out of control. What can he say except “I don’t want to be a father.” Of course not, nobody does.
But maybe…maybe that’s just what’s on the surface. Maybe everything we do is actually a choice; decisions we make that are going to change our entire lives. Like – marry the beautiful MBA girlfriend, move to New York and pursue your career as an artist. Or stay in Vegas with the kid you grew up with, the gorgeous coked-out hooker.
Any Cop?: Hey…maybe this is the story of what true love really is.
Mikael Covey
Bookmunch 