Bad Day At The Office.

[rothstein_ace]

Sam's day had not got any better since his run-in with Ginger earlier. There were problems with the high-roller slots, three of the dancers in the show were at least three pounds overweight, two of the pit bosses hadn't turned in for work, most likely feigning sickness and Billy had been bending Sam's ear about Nicky using him as a personal

Comments

[ginger_hustler]

God only knows how long Ginger had been flaked out after their argument. A hand reached out from the mass of dishevelled blonde hair and fumbled to grab the receiver. Shit, that noise, the ring was echoing in her head, its persistent tring tring driving her to distraction as it bounced painfully from temple to temple

[rothstein_ace]

As Ginger stepped out of the elevator, the familiar pinging announcement gave her exit away. Sam, fresh from his run-in with the now late-Slot Manager, was attending to one thing or another and saw his wife leave.

Sam looked at his watch as Ginger left through the front doors of the Casino. Looking back at Ginger as she strolled forcefully fowards, he shook his head and sucked in air through tightly clenched teeth.

[ginger_hustler]

It was taking all Ginger's attention just to walk in a straight line, so she didn't look round to see Sam watching her. The foyer of the Tangiers was full, some coach party of old folks from some hick town were congregating there. And getting in her fucking way.

She shoulder nudged into one of them as she attempted to weave in and out hurriedly. Not looking back to apologise, more irritated by the fact they were even there, stumbling to find her footing again afterwards. "Fucking velour tracksuited old fuckers," she muttered under her breath, snatching the keys from the valet parker with a half assed smile of gratitude.

Ginger turned the key in the ignition and pulled away onto the Strip, barely looking over her shoulder as she did. She ignored the driver of the car she'd cut infront of as he beeped her angrily.

[rothstein_ace]

Sam's work/life balance wasn't on a par, that much was obvious. Even Billy turned and watched Ginger leave., his stout, stumpy frame attending busily to anything the minute Sam's eyes turned on him.

When Ginger came home, he would be waiting. He headed to the elevator to go upstairs and clean up the mess he was sure that Ginger had left, before his daughter got home.