Smooth Call

Rick didn’t get to far up the 15 on a regular basis but when he did he ticked off his own set of landmarks when he passed them by. The first was when the 15 split and gave you the option to stay on the 15 or go with the 215. Later, in a stretch of about twenty miles, the 15 crossed the 91, the 60, the 10, and the 210.

  Rick didn’t like passing through that stretch of the 15. Crossing those freeways, one after another, always seemed sad and ugly. So many clover leafs, so many cars merging, so many freeways. Most of the time you could pass through the whole mess at 70 miles an hour and never have to slow down, unless you hit rush hour when the sheer volume of traffic could make driving speed drop from 70 to 7 mph.

  Soon after crossing the four freeways they hit the town of Devore. “This is where we start going up the Cajon Summit,” said Gloria. Most people call it the Cajon Pass which runs near here, but the Cajon Summit is the correct name.”

  “Oh?”

  “I read it on Wikipedia. It’s about 14 miles to the top and the road climbs from about 2000 feet to 4190 feet.”

  When they were about half way up the pass Gloria said, “What hotel are we staying in?”

  “I didn’t book one yet.”

  When Gloria remained quite Rick said, “I guess booking a hotel in advance would have been the mature thing to do. I meant to but there was a lot going on and I didn’t get around to it.”

  “No worries, we still have plenty of time. Any hotel in particular you’d like to stay?”

  “Not really, what about you?”

  “I like North Vegas.”

  “Why?”

  “A few years ago I won $385 at the Horseshoe. It’s the only time I played there and I was jazzed that I’d won where the World Series of Poker used to be played. They have pictures of all the winners with their names and the years they won.”

  “Cool. It’s cool that you had a winning session under the shadow of the greats but…….”

  “But that’s really not a reason to stay in North Vegas, right?”

  Rick shrugged and looked over at Gloria. “Right.”

  “I know, I was just giving you a little background.”

  “Hey, I’m glad you did. I wish I could say I won $385 at the Horseshoe.”

  “Maybe you’ll be able to if we stay in North Vegas, only it’s not the Horseshoe anymore, the changed the name to Binyon’s.”

  “So what are the other reasons?”

  “It’s easier to get around. The streets are narrower and easy to cross unlike further down Las Vegas Boulevard where you spend a lot of time crossing the streets on pedestrian overpasses. There are also walking streets in North Las Vegas and when you want to go anywhere else it’s all one direction – down the strip. Also I think it’s a little cheaper there.

  “So that’s my spiel on North Las Vegas now here’s my disclaimer. Wherever we stay I know we are going to have fun. We’ll be spending a lot of time on the strip so if we want to stay there we’ll be close to a lot of stuff we’re going to do. So I’m happy to stay wherever you like.”

  “Let’s stay in North Vegas,” said Rick. “We can always change later if we want to.”

  They drove in silence for awhile and then Gloria opened her bag and pulled out an HP Mini computer. “Do you want me to look for a hotel?”

  “How are you going to get on line out here?”

  Gloria held up an attachment with a small screen and a cord to connect to the computer. It was smaller than a deck of cards. “With this,” said Gloria, “a wireless Hot Spot from AT&T. It will get you on line just about anywhere, as long as you pay them every month.”

  “Nifty,” said Rick as he pulled out his wallet and handed it Gloria. “Flip it open and get the visa card right in the first pocket. Yeah, that’s it. If you get a good deal on a room, go ahead and book it.”

  “Okay,” said Gloria, already working the little computer. She clicked around for five minutes and said, “The Four Queens looks good.”

  “Go for it.”

  Gloria typed in the credit card number and completed the transaction. She browsed the computer for another 15 minutes, until Rick said, “We’ll be in Barstow in half an hour and I’m going to get some gas. Do you want to eat there?”

  “I saw this place on line called Peggy Sue’s 50’s Diner. It’s in Yermo, right off the 15, ten miles past Barstow.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  They weren’t long in Barstow: stretch break, bathroom break, gas and back on the road. A few miles later a sign announced they were coming up on Ghost Town Road. “That’s the exit,” said Gloria, looking up from her computer screen. Rick exited and following Gloria’s instructions, made a few turns and rolled into the parking lot of Peggy Sue’s 50’s Diner When they parked and got out of the truck a family of four came out of the restaurant and started getting into a minivan next to them. The father spotted the ’57 Chevy on the back of the truck and said, “Show them the Chevy and maybe they’ll give you a discount.”

  Rick smiled and Gloria said, “Could be worth a try.”

  The place was pretty busy, Rick thought, especially since it was in the desert with not another building in sight. They took a table to the right of the entrance and a spry waitress on her way out of middle age gave each of them a menu. Rick and Gloria both looked at their menu and smiled.

  After perusing the menu for a few minutes Rick asked, “What are you going to have?”

  “Either a Mickey Mouse triple decker club house sandwich or a Richard Nixon turkey sandwich. How about you?”

  “I’m going with the Marlon Brando mushroom classic burger. Tell me, do you think they named a turkey sandwich after Richard Nixon because they think he was a turkey?”

  “Hard to say, but consider who they named these various dishes after,” Gloria started to read from the menu, “Buddy Holly, Frankie Avalon, Patti Page, Gary Cooper, John Wayne, Fabian, Tina Turner, Chubby Checker, Cary Grant, Big Bopper, Fats Domino, Ritchie Valens and James Dean. What do these people have in common?”

  “They all would have made better presidents than Richard Nixon?”

  Gloria laughed, “Possibly, but that’s not the answer. They’re all entertainers: singers and actors. Richard Nixon is the only politician to have a sandwich named after him. He might be the only politician in America to ever have a sandwich named after him. Quite an honor, and if a turkey sandwich is what he ended up with, well, that’s the price you have to pay to make it onto the menu of Peggy Sue’s Diner.”

  The waitress zoomed in for their order. Rick asked for the Marlon Brando, Gloria went with the Mickey Mouse. They both thought the waitress moved fast for her age.

  When they were finished eating Rick had a coffee while Gloria looked around the gift shop attached to the restaurant. It was filled with 50’s memorabilia which Gloria found interesting. Rick joined her after paying the bill.

  “Are you going to buy anything?”

  “Not now. Let’s go.”

  When they got up on the highway Gloria said, “Marilyn Monroe has to be one of the most famous people that ever lived. She’s been dead for close to 50 years and that gift shop had at least a dozen items with her picture on it.”

  “I got a haircut once in Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico.” Rick tried to say ‘Baja California, Mexico’ like they said it on the sports radio ads. His voice went up on ‘Baja California,’ almost making it sound like a question, and down, deep and serious, on ‘Mexico.’

  Rick shook his head. “I don’t think I have what it takes to be on the radio.”

  “You’re a lawyer, you don’t have to be on the radio.”

  “You’ve got that half right, I don’t have to be on the radio. But I’m not a lawyer, and won’t be until…?” He looked over at Gloria and held out his hand, palm up.

  “You pass the bar exam.”

  “Right.”

  “Still your first case went well even without you passing the bar. You’ll rock once you do.”


  “It wasn’t a case Gloria, it was a crime, probably a felony.”

  Gloria mulled this over for awhile and said, “It’s only a problem if you get caught, and you won’t get caught.”

  “That’s what I’m counting on.”

  “Okay, so tell me about the haircut in Ensenada.”

  “The barber shop was is in downtown Ensenada and was the biggest I’ve ever seen. It had maybe twenty chairs and there was a wall down the middle that divided the room in half with a ten foot break so you could walk back and forth between the sides. On both sides of that wall, and every other wall in the place, were framed pictures of Marilyn Monroe. If I had to guess I’d say there were 150 separate pictures – no repeats. I asked the barber why there were so many pictures of Marilyn. She smiled and said, ‘The owner likes her’. “

  “Did she give you a good haircut?”

  “Yeah, she did. Afterwards she massaged my neck and shoulders. I closed my eyes and almost fell asleep.”

  “Did you pretend it was Marilyn Monroe giving you the massage?”

  “How did you know that?”

  They drove a little further before Rick said, “Elvis is pretty famous, especially in Las Vegas.”

  “True. I’ve heard that when you’re out on the strip at night one in every ten guys is an Elvis impersonator.”

  “Really? Is it like that in North Vegas to?”

  They passed Baker, on the edge of the Mojave Desert. From the highway they could see the world’s largest thermometer, standing higher than four flagpoles, happy to let everyone know what they already knew; it’s hot in Baker.

  “How high do you think that thermometer is?” said Rick. “I’d bet it’s over a hundred feet.”

  Gloria opened a cloth bag and pulled out her small flat computer. “It says in Wikipedia that the height of the thermometer commemorates the hottest temperature ever recorded in the United States, 134 degrees in Death Valley in 1913. The thermometer, called ‘the highest thermometer in the world’ can be seen for miles and is located at the Big Boy Restaurant.”

  “Can you imagine being in 134 degree heat? It’s no wonder they call the place Death Valley.”

  When they crossed the border into Nevada, Rick said, “In the glove box should be the address and phone number of the guy we’re delivering the car too. Can you call him – I think his name is Wright - and tell him we’ll be there in an hour and a half, more or less.”

  Gloria found the receipt and dialed the number. “Hello, Mr. Wright? My name is Gloria and I’m calling for Rick Mills of Ed’s Towing. He wanted me to let you know that he’d have you car delivered to,” she read the address from the delivery receipt, “in about an hour and a half.”

  Gloria listened and said, “We just crossed into Nevada. Okay. Okay, I tell him. See you then.”

  “He says the place is in a light industrial area. He has a small warehouse and he’ll be waiting for us when we get there.”

  “Alright, we’re taking care of business. Deliver the car, find the hotel, and take a nap. I’m tired.”

  Rick half expected Gloria to give him a bad time about the nap but she didn’t. She said, “I might take a nap to. I’m tired just from watching you do all that driving.”

  The warehouse wasn’t hard to find and the new owner of the 1957 Chevy was there as promised. Gloria had expected an older guy, like Joe Scanlon, but the man opening the gate and directing them to back in looked to be about 30. Once, when she was younger, and out driving with her dad, a whole line of classic cars came down the road toward them. Gloria’s noticed that most of the drivers were in their 50’s and 60’s. She asked her dad why and he said he thought it was because they drove cars like that when they were young and they liked to relive their glory days. That couldn’t be the case with...Gloria looked at the paper work...George Wright.

  When Rick finished backing in he set the brake and got out to talk to George Wright. Gloria got out as well and she and Rick introduced themselves to George and shook his hand. George smiled an easy smile and Gloria smiled back.

  “Where do you want it?” said Rick.

  George pointed to a spot almost straight back. “Right in there,” he said.

  Rick got in the truck and maneuvered it to the spot which, when he lowered it, would put the Chevy right where George wanted it. Then he got out and walked to the back of the truck. He put on a pair of gloves and began working the levers and watched the bed of the truck start to tilt backwards.

  Gloria looked around the warehouse floor which was covered with classic cars. “How many cars do you have here?”

  “Twenty five or twenty six.”

  “Do you drive them much?”

  “I’ve driven all of them except the one you just brought in and I’ll drive that within the next couple of days, but to answer your question, no I don’t drive them much, hardly at all really.”

  “Then why do you buy them?”

  George laughed, “Good question, one I should probably ask myself more often. My plan is to sell the whole collection or donate it to charity and get a good write off. In the meantime my friends drive them sometimes and once in awhile I give one to someone on their birthday or a special occasion.”

  “That’s pretty generous of you. It must blow people away.”

  “Yeah, sometimes.”

  Gloria noticed that George was checking her out, letting his eyes sweep across her in between other things he was looking at; the cars, the warehouse entrance, Rick working the bed of the truck. He didn’t stare or leer, just let his eyes take her in, when they swept by like radar. Not a bad technique, Gloria thought, as she turned her head away and smiled.

  Rick had the Chevy on the ground now and the truck bed back in position. He retrieved the paper work from the truck’s glove compartment, put it in a clipboard and brought it to George who signed and handed it back to Rick. “This is for you” said Rick, handing George his copy along with the Chevy’s keys.

  “Thanks,” said George. “Would either of you like something to drink before you go? I’ve got coffee, tea, soft drinks, beer, and bottled water.”

  Gloria and Rick looked at each other and Gloria gave a slight nod. “Sure,” said Rick, “that would be nice.”

  George led them to the opposite corner of the warehouse where there was a large door, identical to the one they’d driven through. Shoulder high, next to the door was a large grey button. George hit it with the palm of his hand, and the door rolled up letting the sunshine fill that part of the warehouse.

  Against the wall near the door was a refrigerator and a small table with an elaborate coffee machine that Rick had seen once or twice in the waiting rooms of successful car dealerships. A few yards away, closer to the open door, was a round metal table and some folding beach chairs.

  “Help yourselves,” said George as he opened the refrigerator door. Gloria took out a Coke Zero and George took a Sprite. Rick, after he’d placed a paper cup to receive the coffee, took a packet of Colombian from the rack above the machine, pulled out the small door, put the packet of coffee in the slot, and pushed the door closed. Within a few seconds the machine was hissing and the coffee was pouring into the cup. He added a little creamer, stuck in a stirring stick, and grabbed a bottle of water before taking a chair at the table with Gloria and George.

  “Are you headed back to San Diego today?” said George.

  Gloria said, “No, we’re going to be in Las Vegas for a few days, living the viva loca.”

  “Good for you, I hope you have a blast.”

  “Thanks,” said Rick.

  “Are you going to do much gambling?”

  “Some. Gloria is a pretty successful poker player so I’m hoping to sit in with her and maybe learn a few things.”

  “Rick is the successful one. A few days ago he won $68,000 and change!”

  “I’d say that was pretty a successful session.”

  “It was but there is more to
the story which I’m sure Gloria would love to tell you.” Rick looked at Gloria and smiled. “You would wouldn’t you dear?”

  Gloria gave Rick a mock ‘if looks could kill’ look and said, “Of course I would. Actually George, Rick won the monster bad beat jackpot at the Pechanga Casino when his four kings were beaten by a straight flush. He got 30% of just over $229,000.”

  “That’s a monster jackpot all right.”

  Rick said, “They have standard jackpots where Ace’s full of tens or better must be beat by four of a kind or better. They don’t get as high as the one I was fortunate enough to win. I don’t play there that often so some of the old boys who do weren’t too happy to see me win.”

  “To bad for them,” said George.

  “That’s what I told them and reminded them that the guy who beat me was going to get 20% and they were all going to share 30% that’s divided among the rest of the players at the table. The other 20% is divided among the rest of the poker players in the room.”

  “Did that shut them up?”

  “Some of them, yeah, but not the hard core career cry babies. I think they have to complain or they stop breathing.”

  “I guess you can’t blame them then.”

  “Yep, a man’s got to breath.”

  Gloria took a sip of her Coke Zero and said, “If you don’t mind me asking George, what do you do for a living?”

  George smiled, “Since I don’t rob banks or deal drugs or work for the CIA, NSA, or IRS, I don’t mind at all. I have some prior commitments, so I’m going to give you the condensed version, if that’s alright. In the late 90’s, when I was young and innocent, a friend and I got hold of a large batch of domain names which we’ve been selling ever since. With the money I’ve made diversified investments and, by the grace of God, they’ve done well, even in the midst of the world’s economic troubles.

  “That’s it. That’s the condensed version. Actually, now that I think about it, the long version isn’t much longer.”

  * * *

  Chapter 8