Tuesday, September 06, 2005

 

Mildred becomes baby sitter to the traumatized...


Cash,

What a weekend.

I flew into to New York on Friday to cheer on Sania Mirza at the US Open. Sadly, Sharapova defeated her in 59 minutes. To make matters worse, around 1AM while throwing back Vodka and Red Bull with Jennifer Capriati at a downtown lesbian bar, Boss calls and summons me to set up shop in Vegas.

From what I gather, the New Orleans Police Department gave every officer a five-day vacation over the next two weeks as the military steps in to replace them. Those who want to go to Las Vegas are being given plane tickets and hotel rooms.

As a result, I’ve been assigned the title of baby sitter for the traumatized. Don’t they get that Elvis died under these conditions? Good god, where did we go wrong?

Morale on the police force is in tatters. About 500 officers - a third of the force - have dropped out of the daily lineup.

Not to be outdone, my sources tell me there's a sleeper cell boondoggle at the MGM until at least Wednesday night. Vegas is one big disaster waiting to happen.

If you need to reach me over the next few weeks, I’ll be at the Bellagio.

Give my best to Andre. Hope Palm Springs was therapeutic.

Love,
Mildred.

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