After a shower and dressing up, I headed to Prime Steakhouse for a big dinner. I had the grilled Pacific salmon. The portion size was huge. It seemed like they put half of a salmon on the plate. After filling up, I played slots for about an hour and a half and sucked down some complimentary Cokes. I bought a five dollar chip to give to a coworker that collects casino chips.
Next, I drove to Missouri to go to Rhonda’s Place on Page Avenue, the only strip club in St. Louis proper, arriving at 9:45pm. Rhonda’s Place turned out to be a dive bar with strippers on the end of a strip mall. There were beer bottles discarded all around the parking lot. No one was checking IDs at the door. There were signs on the wall telling patrons should notify management if anyone tries to sell them drugs. The clientele was mostly African-American and Mexican. This was a strange place. Dancers performed on a small stage in the corner, but were not allowed to strip down any further than a bikini. So much for Missouri being nicknamed the Show Me State. The five dancers working were not making much money with contact and lap dances being illegal in St. Louis County. The worst part about Rhonda’s was the secondhand smoke. I left after an hour, struggling to breathe and reeking of cigarette smoke.
Next, I drove to Lumiere Place in downtown St. Louis, parking in the attached parking garage. There must have been some kind of event going on at the casino and hotel resort because there were women decked out in evening dresses everywhere on the property. I bought a five dollar chip for my coworker at the cage and then jumped on the slot machines briefly. I started to win money, but once again my throat was getting irritated. I looked up toward the ceiling and could seek an abundance of smoke hovering between me and the lights. In Missouri, it is still legal to smoke indoors in casinos and bars. I departed, not being at the casino for more than a half hour. I just could not take it anymore.
I drove across the Mississippi River back into Illinois, exiting the Interstate onto South Illinois 3, so I could go to Pop’s. Coming down the ramp into Sauget, cars were backed up. There was something going on up ahead, possibly an accident. Around this time, I started feeling pain in my stomach and was getting nauseous. After sitting and slowly moving forward for thirty minutes, I eventually came to a checkpoint set up by the Illinois State Police. They asked to see my drivers license and proof of auto insurance. Then they peered into my vehicle with their flashlights. Presumably, they were also looking for drunk drivers. It was after midnight on a Saturday night after all. I saw a few cars on the side of the road that had been impounded by the state police and were being prepared to be towed. By the time, I made it past the checkpoint, I felt something slowly rising up my esophagus. I decided to skip Pop’s and call it a night, heading back to the Holiday Inn. With every mile, I was feeling more and more nauseous. Finally, I pulled into the parking lot, shifted to park, and immediately ran ten feet to the grass hedge in front of my vehicle. I fell to the ground and violently vomited the salmon I had eaten earlier in the night. It was at this point that I would learn I had a serious health problem that would require emergency surgery left than two weeks later. In retrospect, I was grateful that I did throw up while going through the state police roadblock; surely they would have thought I was driving drunk, even though I had not consumed alcohol in over three months.
