I realize that this one is waaay too short to be any kind of a decent update, which is why I'm uploading the next chapter in just a few minutes. I just thought they would be better separately, no weird time jumps or anything. Let me know what you're thinking of the story!
After finally dragging myself out of bed, I looked into the mirror.
I looked like hell.
But that was really nothing new.
I rarely shaved anymore, my hair was tangled and unkempt, just a little longer than its length when I was in school, and my clothes were mostly ripped up and grungy.
I looked at the clock on the wall, and saw that it was four forty-five in the afternoon.
My shift at work started in fifteen minutes.
In my closet I found one of the only decent outfits I kept for work.
Unfortunately, I actually had to look like I somewhat cared about my appearance in the form of wearing a suit.
I worked at a casino in Las Vegas as a blackjack dealer.
My move to Vegas occurred somewhere around a year after I left.
I spent some time travelling around Canada, and ventured across into the States.
I found the city to be everything I thought I myself to be.
Vegas was dingy, and sketchy. It was full of fuck-ups and low-lifes.
I fit in well here.
After getting dressed and pulling my hair back to a hasty ponytail, I saw that it was ten minutes to my shift.
I opened my dresser, and pulled out a pipe and a bag of weed; I could hardly get through a few hours sober, much less a day.
This was why I never kept a job for more than six months.
I never gave a shit.
After loading the pipe, I lit up and took a long, hard hit.
The burn in my chest was so familiar, and in a way it was comforting, because of the feelings I knew would soon follow.
I sat on my bed as I finished off the bowl.
And with just three minutes to five, I was out the door.