After throwing back a few more drinks, I somehow managed to get myself to my room. I had a bite to eat and took a shower. I was trying to get myself ready to meet my rich, older boyfriend—the Stetson man—who would be downstairs very soon. I think I even said out loud a few times that I was “ready to go to work,” so to speak. At some point during my drunken preparations, I remember my husband calling and I couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken at the reminder of our failed marriage.
My best friend and I met the Stetson man at the blackjack table, and I immediately continued my drink fest. I ordered the infamous vodka and Red Bull combination. I am usually not much more than a beer and wine drinker, so this mix really kicked my butt. It wasn’t long before I was more than the life of the party—I was mingling, laughing, and having what felt like the time of my life. My boyfriend wasn’t used to being around big drinkers, so he had no idea what to expect, and was surprised, to say the least, with the way that I was behaving.
The Stetson man and I finally left the casino and headed to his suite for some alone time. I must admit, I don’t remember much from this part of the evening, but I was told that in the middle of making love, I passed out cold. I was unresponsive—and naked—in his bed, and he panicked and called my best friend. But she was still down at the blackjack table, so he wasn’t able to reach her and, instead, he left a message about how he thought I had died. I’m guessing I must have twitched or at least moved slightly because he realized that I wasn’t dead, and that I had just had too much to drink. I was passed out and completely naked in front of the Stetson man—every crack and crevice of my body was right there on display for him to see.
The following morning, my best friend called in a panic. She told me that she had tried to return the Stetson man’s call last night when she had returned to her room, but that he hadn’t picked up—probably because he was preoccupied with the unconscious, naked girl in his bed. Despite the big scare, we all laughed about what had happened. After that night, there was never any need to book separate hotel rooms when I traveled with the Stetson man. There was no point anymore because there was nothing else to hide—he had quite literally seen it all.