If it's crap ... We'll tell you
So what’s black and blue and hates sex? Sugar Weasel in the back of a Las Vegas police cruiser at 12:30 am. Now I’m no stranger to the inside of a jail cell but those of you who have been to Clark County Detention Center will agree with me, it’s no place for a naked clown on a Friday night. I know what your thinking, how badly does one have to fuck up to end up in jail in a city that’s built around, legalized gambling and prostitution? Pretty, damn badly.
I decided rather last minute to fly to Las Vegas for a couple of weeks for some
R & R. I thought I might play a little poker; entertain a few lady friends, maybe even squeeze in a pedicure at the Palms. The first few days went pretty much as planned. That is until I got a call from an old friend of mine, Janie. She wanted me to work a party for her friends 40th Birthday. Call it intuition but normally if Calamity Jane refers someone I graciously decline, but I was spending money like Elvis and frankly needed the extra cash.
It was to be a straight clown show, no escorting. I would do a little Go-Go dancing follow it up with a striptease, and maybe the naughty ring-toss game. Easy money. I’d be in and out of there in an hour, with plenty of time to get cleaned up and back on the strip for a little celebrating of my own. I showed up at the Imperial Palace with balloons in hand and knocked on their door. Who ordered the Chinese food, I said with a wink to the heavyset woman who answered. She looked at me as if she stepped in dog shit. There’s a fucking clown at the door with balloons, she yelled. She was half right, but there would be no fucking this evening.
As I made my way through a thick fog of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume, I found five brutish women in sensible shoes, drinking boxed wine and putting on make up. “You must be the birthday girl,” I said to the bruiser in the tiara as I handed her the balloons. I hate clowns, “ she said curtly. “Really, that’s interesting because the census bureau did a study and the vast majority of clowns polled, hate you to” I replied. You could have heard a pin drop. At that point I figured I could settle up with Janie later on my bill. I just wanted to hurry up and get naked, so I could do my show and get the hell out of there. May I use the bathroom I asked? “Just don’t stink up the joint” she responded. She was a real lady, this one.
I quickly disrobed, and put on some mood appropriate music for the crowd, Mambo Italiano, by Rosemary Clooney. I took a deep breath and jerked open the door, ready to begin my shock and awe campaign. Who ordered the Chinese food I said again as I leapt from the bathroom into the bedroom, wearing nothing but my size 36 clown shoes. What Calamity Jane neglected to mention, was the birthday girl and her cronies worked vice for the Las Vegas Police Department.
The beat down I received was both humiliating and instantaneous. I felt a sharp knee to the groin and fell face first into the pissed stained carpet whimpering, while all 5 women proceeded to stomp me into submission. As the birthday girl placed her size 10 hush puppy firmly on my throat, I looked up in defiance and said, “Under different circumstances I might have boughten you boys a drink” It all gets rather hazy at that point.
I remember being dragged naked from the casino and placed in the back of a police cruiser where I was taken to the Clark County Detention Center. As I was being processed the other detainees began to take notice and started singing the theme to cops. Bad boys, bad boys what you gonna do, what you gonna do when the come for you….
As you might imagine, I made a lot of friends in jail that night but thanks to a high priced attorney and the fact that no money had officially changed hands I was released the following morning. Calamity Jane slipped off to Reno. It turned out she’d been working as a confidential informant for the LVPD, for sometime. Although in hindsight I do not think this was a set up, just poor judgment and dumb luck.
Vegas remains to be one of my favorite vacation destinations and I have no ill feelings towards the Las Vegas Police Department. They have a difficult job keeping a lid on the world’s biggest 24-hour party, but I did learn a few lessons that evening. Always trust my intuitions, and women in sensible shoes hate Chinese food.