"Wow, that must be some puss you have," Mindy said. She turned to Bill. "Did you get to see her bush?"
"Can we change the topic of conversation to something less discomforting?" Bill pleaded. "How about Grenada? I hear our troops will be coming home by December."
"Oh fuck Grenada," Mindy said. "Let's hear about Pauline's bush."
"Uh, actually," Jake said, "the subject of my sister's bush is a bit disconcerting for me as well."
"Oh you prude," Mindy admonished. "What's the matter? Didn't you ever get to see it?"
"Mindy, Jesus," Jake said, blushing a little himself now. Of course he had seen it on a few occasions during their teen years — growing up in a household where modesty was only loosely encouraged made that inevitable — but the memory certainly didn't have the lustful power over his masturbation fantasies that the one brief glimpse Bill had gotten had over his, even to this day.
"There's nothing interesting about my bush," Pauline said wistfully. "Except maybe the cobwebs in it."
"Been a while since you got hosed down, huh?" Mindy asked sympathetically.
"Oh, it's an old story," Pauline said. "All work and no play means no play, if you know what I mean."
"Well let's get you laid," Mindy said. "How about that craps dealer? I saw you giving him the eye. He'll clean your cobwebs out for you."
Pauline laughed, shaking her head. "He is kind of cute," she said.
"Damn straight he is," Mindy said. "Everyone who works the VIP room is cute. It's a requirement."
"So what do I do? Just go up to him and say, 'excuse me, Mr. Handsome Craps Dealer, but I find you attractive and would like you to lay me'?"
"Actually," Mindy said, "you go to the pit boss and let him know that you're interested and he'll make the arrangements for you."
Everyone laughed for a moment until they realized that Mindy was not joking.
"Wait a minute," Pauline said. "You're serious about this?"
"I don't joke about cobweb clearing," Mindy said. "If you want the craps dealer, he's yours. At least if you catch him before he goes off shift. If that happens you'll have to pick someone from the night shift."
"You mean everyone who works in the VIP room is a... a... prostitute?" Pauline asked, both shocked and aroused by this thought.
"No, they're not prostitutes," Mindy said. "At least not in the strict sense of the word. But one of the unwritten requirements for working in the VIP rooms is that you make yourself available for the customers if they request it. Everyone who accepts the position understands this and accepts it."
"Are you serious?" Jake asked, feeling his own mixture of discomfort and intrigue.
"Uh... does this mean that the women are available as well?" asked Bill, who had been eyeing the cocktail waitress all night.
"This is just too weird," said Pauline.
"Nothing weird about it," Mindy said. "It's part of the high-roller services. Of course, there is some etiquette involved. That's where the pit boss comes in. You ask him to ask the person or persons you're interested in if they would mind joining you in your suite for a drink later. He then forwards the request to them and they say yes."
"What if they don't say yes?" Pauline asked.
Mindy smiled. "That doesn't happen," she said. "Trust me."
Jake was thinking that Mindy knew an awful lot about this particular high-roller service. How many times had she been here? How many times had she used such services? Obviously she'd used them enough to know the ins and outs of it.
Pauline, meanwhile, was shaking her head. "Sorry," she said, "that's just not me. I'm a respected corporate lawyer. I can't see myself asking a pit boss to arrange for some stud to come up to my room with me."
"You want me to do it for you then?" Mindy asked.
"No," she said firmly. "It's just not my style."
"Vegas is all about changing your style," Mindy said. "That's why they call it Sin City. And no one will find out. Remember, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."
"No," Pauline said, with something that sounded like conviction. "It's just too weird for me. I'll get my cobwebs cleaned out the natural way."
Mindy shrugged. "Well let me know if you change your mind," she told her.
The subject changed to something neutral and about fifteen minutes later they went back to the casino to do more gambling. They weren't there thirty minutes before Bill went to the pit boss and held a short conversation with him. The pit boss then went to the buxom cocktail waitress and held a short conversation with her. He then went back to Bill and conversed even more. Five minutes later the cocktail waitress and Bill were leaving the casino together.
"Ahh, young love," Mindy said, gleaming at them. "Isn't it a beautiful thing?"
Jake was sitting next to her at the blackjack table, his pile of chips slowly shrinking down under a fresh onslaught of bad luck. Pauline was over at the craps table, rolling the dice under the watchful eye of the young stud Mindy had offered to get for him. "I can't believe you were trying to get my sister to hook up with that guy," he said, keeping his voice low so the blonde dealer couldn't hear it.
Mindy simply shrugged. "I'm just trying to get her to take advantage of all the services the casino has to offer."
"Yes," Jake said, "but this is my sister. Don't you understand how weird that is?"
"No, actually I don't," she said. "But you might as well get used to the idea. She'll be over here soon to ask me to make the arrangements for her."
"She will not," Jake said. "You don't know who you're talking about here."
"I think maybe you don't know who we're talking about here. I give her fifteen more minutes."
As it turned out, Mindy was wrong. It actually took twenty-four minutes and the consumption of two more drinks and two more lines of cocaine before Pauline came strolling over, her gait just a bit unsteady. "All right," she said, wafting her scotch scented breath in Mindy's face, "I think I'll try it. Can you talk to the pit boss for me?"
"Pauline," Jake said, "have you thought about this?"
"It's all I have been thinking about," she replied. "What's the protocol here? Do I tip him afterward, or what?"
"No," Mindy said. "His VIP room salary is compensation enough for these special services. Tipping implies he's a common gigolo, which he isn't."
"Wait a minute," Jake said. "Pauline, you're not seriously going to do this, are you?"
"Oh look who's talking," she said, a hint of anger in her voice. "I'm getting a morality lecture from a man who snorts cocaine out of a girl's ass."
"I thought you said you didn't do that," Mindy said, turning to him.
"I didn't," Jake hissed, shooting a furious look at his sister.
"Oh... sorry," she said with a giggle. "Of course you didn't. Forget I said that." She turned back to Mindy. "So, are you gonna talk to the man, or what?"
She stood up, grinning from ear to ear. "I'll talk to the man," she said.
She talked to the man. Two minutes later Pauline left the casino on the arm of the handsome craps dealer.
"All right then," Mindy said when she returned. "That just leaves the two of us."
"Yep," Jake agreed, his mood still a little sour at the thought of his sister getting pounded by an ambiguously labeled male prostitute.
Mindy leaned close and whispered in his ear. "Why don't we pick one out for you now?"
His eyes widened as he looked at her. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me quite well," she whispered. "Which one? I've seen you eyeing our dealer. How about her?"
Jake looked up at the dealer, who had laid out their latest hands and was patiently waiting for them to pick up their cards. "Will you excuse us for just a minute?"