Pleasure Bomb

As the elevator door closes, my cell phone rings. I fish it out of my silver-colored shoulder bag while my other hand lets go of my black roller luggage bag, where my clothes and other personal belongings are placed in—my laptop included.

I smile with excitement as I answer the call from my close friend. “Hey, Kyla! When are you coming? What time? You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”

“Hey, Jody! I’m so sorry! I’ll be coming and we’ll enjoy at the casino while we’re on spring break, but… I can’t make it tonight. My dad’s having a meltdown because of Pete! Gosh! But I’ll definitely come tomorrow, not tonight though,” my friend explains. “I have to somehow pacify my father. You know my drill.”

I sigh. I know that her boyfriend and her dad don’t see eye to eye so it’s understandable. My friend will likely cook dinner for her father and play a board game with him. After that, they usually are fine like nothing happened.

As the elevator door dings, I grab my luggage and begin to look for my suite. The hallway is spotless. The walls are beige in color, with occasional landscape paintings hanging.

“Oh, yeah.” I sympathize with her. “That’s so bad, though! But it’s okay, Kyla. I understand. I’ll be staying here for three nights anyway. So you can always follow and catch up, girl.” I smile and open my suite in this exclusive luxury casino hotel with my access card.

“I’m really sorry, Jody. I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” she said apologetically.

“Hey, no big deal. Atlantic City, New Jersey is right here to wait up for you!”

We both giggle as I close the door of my suite. I look around my suite where I’ll stay for three nights and four days, courtesy of my mother as my twenty-second birthday gift. I’ll be celebrating it in three days’ time, with Kyla. That’s the plan. My mother and father are divorced, and both are always busy with their own lives and businesses. So, this is how I’m going to celebrate my natal day.

Peachy.

“Hey, Kyla! You should see my suite! It’s really nice. Wait, I’ll send you the pictures.” I continue to speak with my friend. I take a couple of selfies and send them to her.

“Wow!” she exclaims after seeing them. “The view is indeed awesome! I can’t wait to be there!” she bursts out, gushing.

“Yup! You better!”

When she hangs up, I order some room service. I unpack my luggage and choose a dress and underwear to change later. When my order has come up, I sit in front of the cable TV and watch a movie while I eat. It happens to be a comedy, so I keep on laughing at the scenes like an idiot.

When I finished up eating, I go to the bathroom and have a relaxing bath. It feels wonderful. From the bathtub, it also offers the panoramic view of the city. It is beautiful. It’s more beautiful now as it’s nighttime with different lights that seem to show off to visitors.

When I finished my bath, I pat myself dry with the towel and blow dry my newly washed hair. I change into my Persian blue-colored dress that I’ve chosen earlier, which has a sweetheart neckline with no straps and with a high left leg slit. I put on my makeup and lipstick before I spray some perfume.

I look at myself in the mirror, satisfied with the outcome. My past shoulder-length blonde hair is now stylishly coiffed on top of my head. I turn around with a smile and leave my suite.

I go down to the casino, looking at the noisy place filled with dressed up men and women. I also notice some security people that are scattered all over the place. They can easily be spotted because of the device placed in their ears, and they look grim and serious. Typical of them.

I check out the noisy slot machines first, and I see some people playing. I hear curses and others like shouts of glee when they hit the jackpot. Then I check out the roulette, looking at the wheel as it spins. I decide to exchange a thousand dollars worth of chips and try my luck in roulette. As I play, I also order some drinks.

I won like a couple of times, which makes me happy. And right now, I feel so lucky, too. So I place my bet again for another game with a drink in one hand. I haven’t noticed this middle-aged woman make her way through the crowd behind me. Just as she comes up behind me, she trips. Too bad, as I raise my glass for my third win at the same time. The result, my wine is spilled on my dress from the left breast down to my tummy part. Everyone who’d seen it gasps.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she apologizes readily.

I look at her with mouth gaped open. I could only slowly nod, still shocked though.

“I’ll… be right back,” I tell the dealer. He has witnessed what happened, so he sympathetically nods and smiles at me.