My Encounter with Morris Ch. 02

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Addict meets up with visitor again for a final time.
2k words
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Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 05/04/2007
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Over the next few hours I couldn't stop thinking of what Morris had said. It obviously translated to my work, because I wasn't really concentrating and began losing money to the players quickly. I would constantly go over 21, until finally the pit boss came over and took me aside. A new dealer took my place.

"Look kid, I like you but you're losing us a ton of money here. You were doing fine earlier, what's up? You got family troubles or something?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Regardless, you take the rest of the night off. Clock out, go home and relax. Go find a woman or something. Let her help you relax."

I sighed and nodded. I went to the break room, and clocked out. As I slipped my jacket on, and fished out a smushed pack of Camels cigarettes from the breast pocket, I heard the sound of one of the slot machines going off, and some woman screaming hysterically. I sighed, thinking that someday I'd get used to that. Someday I would see a financially strapped gambler in dire need of money, gamble his or her last dollar away and not care whether that last pull of the handle would net them temporary financial security, or a long walk back to their car, trying to think of what they would tell their family. Someday that may happen, but today was not that day. I felt a smile creep on my face, as I imagined the happiness my place of employment had caused, if only for one person.

I lit up, and exited the employee lounge in the back of the casino, and made my way to the bar. This wasn't a regular occurrence. I hadn't touched alcohol in seven months, but apparently seven wasn't my lucky number tonight. It had been a weird night, Ever since Morris had sat down at my table, I couldn't think straight.

I walked into the casino's bar and sat down at the first stool that was open. I buried my head in my hands and sighed.

"Rough day there mate?"

I looked up and the bartender was standing in front of me. I blinked a couple times and nodded.

"What'll it be?"

I waved my hand at him, "I don't care. Surprise me."

The bartender shook his head and disappeared at the end of the bar. My eyes followed him as he made his way down the bar and sitting down on the end, staring at me with a slight smile on his face was Morris. I climbed off my stool and walked over and sat beside him.

Morris cocked his head to the side, and looked at his watch.

"You off, already?" Morris asked me.

"Bad day at the office." I muttered. The bartender came over and set two drinks down. One in front of each of us.

"Thanks Mike." Morris said.

"No problem." Mike said, as he went back down the bar, wiping the surface, and collecting tips.

"What's wrong?" Morris asked me.

"I don't know. I guess I've been thinking about what you were talking about. I mean trying to live a good life, getting clean and off the drugs. I thought maybe I could do the same. I mean I've been clean and sober for a hundred and fifty-eight days now, but here I am. Sitting in a bar when I should be out there working."

"You know we're both alike." Morris said.

I thought about it for a minute and then looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"Well, we both want what we think is unattainable. We both want to be clean, we both want to stay on the straight and narrow, we both want someone to love us, to somehow validate our lives. To us, we need that validation. We can't just wake up and say, 'I'm a good person. I deserve to live. I deserve to be happy'. We need something or someone to tell us this constantly, on a daily basis."

I sat there, running my finger around the rim of the glass in front of me. Morris tapped me on the shoulder.

"And we're both recovering addicts sitting in Las Vegas, staring down at a glass of alcohol that neither of us plan on drinking."

I suddenly realized that I hadn't taken a drink from the glass. Hadn't even made a move for it. Neither had he.

"We're alike, the two of us. Not only are we alike in the ways I mentioned, but we're both self destructive people."

"I'm not self-destructive. You think I want to fail?"

"Yeah. Well, maybe not fail but you want to put yourself in the most extreme positions to see if you can get out of it. You keep getting more and more in over your head until you can't even see the top anymore. You get yourself to the point where there's no way in hell you're gonna succeed, and then when you fail you tell yourself you just can't do it, and that you might as well succumb to the addiction."

I shook my head as if to say no, when he cleared his throat and said, "Why did you come here to work?"

I shrugged, "It's work. I needed a job and my roommate's friend hooked me up."

"No, I mean Vegas. Why in the entire country did you pick Vegas? There weren't any closer places to work? I can tell by your accent you're not from here."

"Virginia."

"Exactly. So why out of all the places in Virginia, North Carolina, Maryland and all the other places on the East Coast did you pick to drive across the country and get a job in a casino? "

"I wanted to get away. Start over."

"How quickly did you decide this after drying out? One minute? Five? You obviously didn't waste any time."

"Why do you say that?" I asked, getting irritated.

"Okay, let me ask you a question. Kind of off-topic, okay?"

I rolled my eyes, "Sure, whatever."

"Suppose you meet this woman right? Now, she's just hot. She's everything you imagine the most beautiful perfect woman would be, okay? You got this image in your head?"

"Yeah, what's your point?"

"Just stay with me here. She offers you a night alone upstairs in one of these suites. And not just an ordinary suite. Not the stuff they comp you with. The real suites. The ones set aside for the rich celebrity people. So you get a night alone with this hot exotic woman."

"Sounds great."

"Now here's the kicker. You hear rumors that she's got a disease. You still go upstairs with her?"

"Are you nuts? Of course not."

"Then why would you, a recovering addict, move to Vegas to get a job? Same thing."

I sighed and shook my head slowly realizing he was right. I was in a destructive pattern. I had been for years, and yet had never really noticed. It took a cat to point out what had been obvious to everyone but me. I mean, here I was a recovering drug addict and an alcoholic working in a casino where alcohol is flowing heavier than the water, and drugs are available everywhere you look. I could toss a chip and hit some coke in that place most nights. And I was supposed to succeed? I, of all people, should know that the house always wins. No matter what happens no matter how confident you are, the house will win.

If I keep going the way I am where will I end up? Where will I be when my luck runs out? A halfway house? A jail cell? Alone? How far was I away from that end?

Morris pushed his drink away from him and turned to me.

"Look, I can't tell you what to do. Even if I could, you wouldn't listen to me. We never do. We have to find out for ourselves, and then it's often too late. I was lucky and wised up before it was too late. Maybe you will too. Maybe you'll beat the house."

My eyes widened a bit when he said that. Could this cat read my mind, too?

"Lots of luck, my friend." Morris said, with an outstretched paw.

"Julian." I said, as I gripped his paw gently in my hand.

He withdrew his paw, and turned to jump down when he stopped and turned back around to face me.

"Do you want to know my name?"

I wasn't expecting that, so it took me a few seconds to register.

"Excuse me?"

"Do you want to know my name? I told you it was Morris, but I never told you my real name. Would you like to know it? Or is Morris satisfactory to you?"

I thought for a moment, and smiled. "Wait and tell me another time."

"Why is that?" he asked.

"So there will be another time." I said simply.

Morris smiled and nodded his head in understanding. He jumped off the stool and quickly sprinted out of the bar. As he was exiting he stopped and called back, "Another time."

He then ran out of the casino and into the night leaving me sitting there with a glass of some type of alcohol sitting in front of me. I stood up straightening my collar. I fished a ten out of my pocket and tossed it down by the untouched glasses, and walked toward the exit.

As I reached the door, I heard a voice behind me.

"Hey, you not gonna drink this?" I turned around and the bartender was pointing at my glass. I waved him away, and said no thanks. Suddenly I realized something. There was only one glass there.

"Hey, what happened to the other glass? You take it already?"

"What glass?"

"You know, the one that the other guy beside me was drinking."

Mike stared at me a few seconds and shook his head. "I think you've obviously had enough." he said as he grabbed my glass and dumped it down the sink.

I stood there for a few trying to figure out what was going on. I shook my head a bit and turned and exited the lounge. As the door swung shut, I into my breast pocket and withdrew the pack of cigarettes. I looked at them and then tossed them in the trash can by the door.

I walked out of the casino and as I passed a pay phone I stopped. I stared at it for a few seconds. I walked over to it and picked up the receiver. I entered in a phone card number that I had committed to memory, and then the pin number.

After a few seconds, I entered in Scott's number. Three rings into it, he picked up.

"Hello?" he sounded tired. I cursed silently as I remembered the time difference.

"Scott, I'm sorry I'm not even thinking. It's like two in the morning there."

"Julian?"

"Yeah, I wanted to call you. I um.."

"Where are you?"

"Leaving work."

"Are you alright?"

I stood there looking at all the neon signs around me. There were a crowd of people pouring out of the Stardust down the street.

"Wait...it's two in the morning where you are, right?"

Pause. "Um. Yeah."

"That means it's midnight here. Or just after, right?"

"Okay, you're a math whiz, what's this leading up to?"

"A hundred and fifty-nine days."

"Congratulations. Did you have a hard day today?"

"Nah, actually I think I've had one of my better days. And you know what? I think things might be looking up. I met someone today."

"Someone? Didn't you just say a hundred and fifty nine?"

"No, not that kind of someone. He ..um..put things in perspective for me. Sort of clarified things. Pointed out the obvious, I guess you could say."

"When are you coming back to Virginia? Back where it's the same time for both of us. No more waking me up in the middle of the night."

"I don't know. I won't wake you up anymore, I'm sorry for bothering you."

"You know you're not bothering me. I'm here for you no matter what, you know that too."

"Yeah. Hey, have a great day Scott. I'll call you next week. At a decent hour this time."

"Good luck Julian."

"Yeah you too."

I hung up the telephone, and took a deep breath. It is a brand new day. A hundred and fifty-nine and counting.

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