"Hitting on 17!!!" the dealer called across the casino. I shifted uneasily in my seat. I didn't anticipate this.

Sighing, I thought of crossing the border.

We drove back across state lines, and found our friend Kramer in Warren.

Detroit is a stark place, neither good nor evil, the trip is all about survival. Old for an American city, whatever lurked here before never left.

We came up to the border, outside the tunnel entrance. We stopped in the duty free and ate some more shrooms. Jeff was out, wanting nothing to do with it. Kramer was in back. We ate some, and smoked some shroom dust I had.

Smoking shroom dust is precarious. Sometimes, some shrooms, you get nothing. Sometimes you do, and the onset is fast.

I pulled up to checkpoint, trying not to think of the pot in the car. The shrooms were gone...from the car.

"ID" the border guard said sternly. I handed him my card. Fuck he looked weird. Maybe its a canadian thing...

"Where are you headed?" he asked.

"----------" I said, naming my hometown.

"It says here, you're FROM ----------" he asked.

"Oh." I said, "I thought you asked where I was from." and a laughing fit came on. I tried biting my tongue hard, to no avail. The thought 'transporting drugs across international borders' floated through my head, and it made me laugh.

"We're just going to the titty bars, sir." Jeff supplied helpfully.

This sobered me. I thought this was the last thing to admit to, but apparently he was right on.

"Any guns or alcohol in the car?" the border guard asked.

"Not in the car, sir." Kramer mumbled in the back.

"What?" he said.

"Nothing in the car, sir." I said, reigning in the impulse to laugh straigh in his face, hard. And man, did that mug look strange. Always the faces.

"Okay, move along." he said. He didn't give a fuck.

And we drove into the night. After stumbling around for awhile we found this club called 'The Million Dollar Saloon.'

And we entered. Typical strip club, with a large flat stage, lots of UV and neon, every other girl was pretty and beers were six bucks a bottle.

I tried to encourage the guys to give the girls a buck, but they were reticient.

A girl came on stage, with a pretty figure. Somewhat slim, shoulder length brown hair, blue eyes, perky breasts. Catholic schoolgirl outfit. I was in love.

She didn't draw much attention, for whatever reason. My friends saw me staring.

"Here you go, Argentum," Jeff said, passing me a Canadian ten-spot. "Lay on the stage, and put this on your face."

So I did.

I made eye contact, and slid onstage, bum first, with the ten spot between my lips.

She pranced over, short plaid skirt loosely around her hips. She pulled me to the middle of the stage and laid me down.

The music hit a creshendo as she kneeled over my face, her hips gyrating madly, her clit, inches away from my face, and it might as well have been a million miles.

She picked up the bill with her breasts and gave me a kiss.

"Thanks, baby." she said.

"Thank YOU." I said earnestly, and I meant it. Strippers usually can't crack my demeanor and make me starry eyed. She managed it.

I sat back down and we laughed. Time to go.

Later on, we stopped at a park by the river and smoked a joint, watching the ships file through the channel. Ugly squalor on the other side. A moment of peace from the psychic storm.

And after drinking and driving through two states and across an international border, I surrendered my duties.

We drove across the border, and the border guard just waved us straight through.  He seemed more interested in hitting on his co-worker at 5:00 am, than national security.   Slept at Kramer's house. Collapsed was more like it.

In the morning, we headed home.

Not ready for home, we went north to an Indian Casino.  Crept in there carefully.  Signs said "All alcoholic beverages must be locked in trunk".

Stoned, drunk, whatever my luck was still strong. Holding it together, right before the tip.

The card dealers stopped for a moment, and the card players, having no choice but to watch as my dealer laid out the final card.

It was a four.

"Black Jack!!!" she shouted to the crowd. A smattering of disinterested applause. Somewhere, a bell rang.

Whoops, that was fun.

TIP: Never go out and celebrate your winnings by smoking a joint, and continuing to gamble. Bad JuJu.  Know when its all been enough.