An Ode to the Lamented Loss of Duchess DeSade
From a Facebook post 8 years ago
I watched the sunrise this morning in Vegas. Not my first Vegas Sunrise. As the sun rose I thought about the last time I saw sunrise in Vegas. It was from the 21st floor of the Trump Hotel with my friend Barbara aka Duchess DeSade aka Bad Ass Barb.
We went to Vegas on a whim. We hadn’t talked in a month due to the chaos in our own lives. Me newly single, recently unemployed, with a severance package that had momentarily given me a 5th digit in my bank account. Her with her father having passed a week prior, having to deal with responsibilities she never wanted or asked for, and a secret she kept to herself.
We told each other about the craziness in our lives and I asked if she wanted to get away for a few hours. She jokingly said more like a week. I suggested camping. She said fuck that. I said “Vegas?” she said “Yeah!” I told her to be ready to go at midnight.
On our way to Vegas she asked where we were staying. It was the end of August so I was able to say anywhere she wanted. Barb came up with the Trump hotel. Since it was possible he was going to be our next president she wanted to see what he was all about. (Fuck if she only knew. Oddly enough I think she saw it happening.)
