"Money doesn't make a fool out of a girl as often as a girl makes money out of a fool."
- Anonymous quote
* * * * *
Fuller started his search in the morning.
The Las Vegas casinos were open all night, but he wanted fresh meat. He spotted her by the slot machines doing a poor job of feigning an interest in gambling. Her simple white dress caught his eyes like a beacon of purity. She was a young, healthy looking girl who might have been a college coed.
"Hi," said Fuller. "Got change for a dollar?" he smiled.
It was a terrible pick-up line, but Fuller put his best efforts into the end game. Besides, there was no need to waste good pick-up lines on hookers.
She returned his smile, raising a paper cup filled with quarters to her chin, as if she were toasting him. For a minute, Fuller imagined she might tip the quarters into her mouth and drink them down like a bionic whore. Her body was a money machine just like the slots.
"I'm bored," she answered.
"I'm Fuller," he smiled.
She smiled back.
"Hi Fuller, I'm Lori."
"If gambling bores you, why come to Las Vegas?
Fuller poised the question already knowing the answer. She was a working girl. But he enjoyed making them squirm.
"It's not my idea of fun. I'm here with my parents."
Fuller nodded and got back on track. "So what do you do for fun?"
"I'm an Anthropology student at Arizona State University."
Fuller had not been expecting this type of answer. She must be one of those new wave hookers who made up an entire legend for the enjoyment of the John. Fuller had seen this before with high priced call girls. Even after the sex, they would persist in pretending to be the daughter of a priest, an airline stewardess, or a nurse. He played along.
"Anthropology. Isn't that the study of people?"
"Why, yes. I'm surprised you knew."
"I know lots of things."
"Oh, you do, do you?"
"I know you'd like me to rescue you from boredom."
"How would you do that?"
"You'll have to come with me to find out."
Fuller offered her his hand. Her hesitation was charming. She did a quick little curtsey-type movement, slipping her purse off her shoulder and dumping the cup of quarters inside before taking Fuller's hand. Hand-in-hand, the picture of innocence, they walked out of the casino together.
On the way to his hotel room, Fuller pulled Lori into Walgreen's Pharmacy. She looked at him.
"I've got protection," she said.
Fuller gave her a look of alarm thinking she was talking about carrying a gun. But how could she know about his scam already? What had tipped her? Then it hit him. She meant condoms.
"Oh, no," said Fuller, raising one hand like a little boy in school who knew the right answer, "I just need to check some lottery tickets."
In the far corner of the pharmacy, by the pay telephone, was a Lottery ATM. It sold tickets and confirmed winning tickets. Fuller took an envelope out of the breast pocket of his jacket and inserted his first ticket. He followed this by four more tickets. They were all losers. The fifth ticket was different. The display window flashed in red that it was a winning ticket followed by the amount of $5 million dollars.
Fuller shouted in mock surprise. "Whoa baby! This is my lucky day!"
He palmed the ticket as it came out of the Lottery ATM, quickly turning it over so Lori could see the other side.
"I need to sign this." He looked at Lori. "But first, I'm going to spend some time with my lucky lady."
He smiled at Lori, and returned the unsigned ticket to the envelope. She grabbed his hand firmly in hers, and they set off again for his hotel room. They both smiled like co-conspirators.
Fuller's plan was foolproof. Show her the winning ticket, enjoy the sex, and pretend to fall asleep. Then, let her steal the ticket. This was how he planned to get free sex. If the hooker insisted on pre-payment, he would balk. If she continued insisting, she would loose out on her opportunity to steal $5 million dollars.
That was the hard part.
The easy part was getting a winning ticket. The winning numbers were posted in the Las Vegas Times right next to the long range weather forecast. He simply cut out the winning numbers from losing tickets and pasted them onto a lottery ticket. It was a cheap counterfeit. It would never fool anyone, but it could fool the Lottery ATM Machine.
These machines did not have sophisticated scanners. He could never redeem the ticket for any money. But Fuller was after sex, not money.
As Fuller expected, Lori did not ask for pre-payment for her services. The sex was stupendous. Fuller did not have to pretend to fall asleep. He was exhausted after a continuous 2 hour romp in which Lori had revived him twice with her magic mouth. He heard her slip out of bed and tiptoe over to his jacket. A door clicked lightly before he fell asleep.
When Fuller woke up he felt good. He felt wonderful. He now had a foolproof plan to get free sex. He felt fantastic until he heard her voice.
"Good Afternoon, sleepy head," Lori greeted him.
Fuller was speechless. Had she discovered his con? Why had she stayed? What had gone wrong? He needed a way to handle this situation.
He faked a yawn, and decided to try honesty. "Why didn't you steal the Lottery Ticket?" Fuller asked.
"I thought about it," Lori admitted.
"Well?" Fuller insisted, disappointed that his plan had failed.
"I just couldn't," Lori said.
"I guess I owe you," said Fuller.
"I guess you do," Lori agreed shaking her head.
Of all the hookers, in the entire world, Fuller had picked the last honest whore. He shook his head in disbelief. He took out four fifty dollar bills and laid them out on the bed.
"What's that for?" asked Lori.
"For you."
"What do you think I am, a whore?" Lori spat out the words.
Fuller backpedaled. "Uh, no, of course not."
"Yes, you do."
