Fame Visits Vegas!

I had the limousine driver drop me at the curb prior to arriving at the passenger terminal. I knew this request would create a longer walk for me but it allowed me to assume a more demure presence in the crowd of passengers lining up for the morning flights departing DFW Airport to various spots around the globe. I was off to Las Vegas for the week to attend the annual Hussy Convention. It was a meeting which I have attended many times in the past and I looked forward to the pleasure yet again this year.

My plan to move about the airport incognito has worked quite well all the way up until we boarded the plane. I entered the doorway of the first-class cabin intent on finding my seat and preparing myself for an accidental nap to while away my time in the air. As things worked out, fate would not allow such a plan and I was immediately confronted with a totally new set of circumstances.

“Oh, Dear God, it’s the writer, Wayne Brown!” I heard the Captain say as I entered the door. He was standing at the open cockpit door smiling in total surprise. “I cannot believe it!” The Captain continued with glee, “The ‘Brazen Hussy’ is on my flight!” and with that he began to lose control quickly overcome with heavy breathing. He threw his arms around me and hugged me as if I was his long lost mother.

“Dear God man, get hold of your self!” I quickly instructed working to free myself from his bear-hug embrace and totally aware of his heavy breathing now so close to my left ear.

Without further adieu, the Captain quickly fell to the floor of the aircraft and began grabbing at his crotch. Needless to say, I was appalled at his actions in that he had taken my instructions so literally. I quickly dropped my briefcase and grabbed his arms to restrain him from groping himself publicly.

“Take this man to the back of the plane and restrain him. Place a brown paper-bag over his head until he has recovered from his hyper-ventilated state. Once that happens, give him two sedatives and see that he sleeps for the remainder of the flight. I will take control of the aircraft and see that we leave and arrive on time as planned.” With that, I pulled open the door of the cockpit and stepped in.

To my surprise, the co-pilot’s seat was filled with the most exquisitely beautiful young woman that I had ever seen in a pilot’s uniform. She quickly said my name before I could introduce myself letting me know that she was fully aware of my fame.

“Place a call to your operations dispatcher and let your company know that your Captain for this flight is in a state of hyper-ventilated incapacity. Tell them that the ‘Brazen Hussy’ will be taken command of and responsibility for the flight. You may tell them that we intend to make an on-time departure and will most certainly arrive in Las Vegas at our appointed time. We will call with progress reports along the way.” I instructed the young female co-pilot.

With that task completed we went to work getting the necessary things in place to get the aircraft off the ground and flying. We worked harmoniously with the synergy of a team operating in total unison toward a common, visualized goal. We were as one in our every movement and action. The flight departed as promised on time and we set our course for Las Vegas.

With our departure chores out of the way, there was now time for the young co-pilot and myself to exchange some personal conversation. I told her that I was off to Las Vegas for a business/pleasure trip and that I would be attending the International Hussy Convention while there. With that said, the young woman immediately burst into tears and sobbed profusely as the tears rolled down her cheeks and her nose ran like that of a child. It was then that I realized how much she was suffering with her own self-esteem. While encased in a beautiful and desirable exterior, inside she was a confused, mixed-up bundle of chaos who was so in need of the services of the “Brazen Hussy”.

Finally, with some coaching from me, she regained her composure and began to relate those things which troubled her greatly. She told me that she was overcome with emotion at the mention of the International Hussy Convention in that much of her adult life she had dreamed of attaining the title of hussy without ever coming close. Yes, she had excelled as a pilot and was admired by those of her gender for her accomplishments but not one of them had ever so much as thought of referring to her as a “hussy.” With tears in the corners of my eyes, I tried to find the words to comfort her and give her hope to eventually achieve her heartfelt desires.

By the time we had begun our descent into Las Vegas, I had schooled this young miss on the ways of the hussy. I had shared many of the dark secrets which had been at the base of my success only holding back in those areas in which I knew that too much information would become a danger to such a young lass. Soon she was smiling with the assurance that she surely possessed the necessary talents to earn the title of “hussy” in the not too distant future. With the situation under control, I quickly directed her to take command of the aircraft and make the on-time landing in Las Vegas.

Once we were on the ground and taxiing toward the gate I turned to the young co-pilot and said, “Remember, you can’t always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, you get what you need.” She just stared back at me with an adoring smile.

Once we were at the gate, I handed my young co-pilot a pass to the convention and invited her to come and see the actions of some true hussies. She smiled and gave me a big hug prior to my departing to the yells of our adoring passengers. I quickly put distance between myself and them in the hope that they would not draw attention to my presence here in Las Vegas.

Arriving in the baggage claim area, I quickly spotted by limousine driver who was stupidly there holding a sign with my name on it. I quickly pulled a one hundred dollar bill from the roll in my pocket and grabbed a rather dim-witted young man from the crowd and instructed him to whisper to the driver that his passenger was out on the curb. I then moved quickly through the double doors of the terminal and positioned myself to trap the driver as he came out of the building.

“My God man, have you lost your wit? You cannot go about in a place like this displaying a sign with my name on it. Have you no regard what-so-ever for my privacy? Do you not realize the absolute chaos you could have created inside that airport terminal at the mere mention of the fact that the ‘Brazen Hussy’ might be in their presence?” I scolded.

The driver quickly grabbed my small carry-on bag and my valise and pointed me toward the car. All the way, he was apologizing for his stupidity. He finally admitted to me that he was so giddy with excitement in anticipation of meeting the writer, Wayne Brown, that he had lost all his common sense and rationale learned over many years as a limo driver. I quickly forgave him and rewarded him with my autograph. At that point, he was putty in my hands.

Arriving at the hotel, I found that the “hussies” had totally taken over the place. There were hussies from all over the world and from every walk of life. There were common hussies, household hussies, barroom hussies, neighborhood hussies, town hussies, conspicuous hussies, gorgeous hussies, cheating hussies, lying hussies, and of course, the all too common two-timing hussies. My personal favorites for the meeting were the “wanton hussies”. They were such a partying bunch and seem never to sleep. Of course, for all the different hussies there at the convention, I was a hussy of a different color. I was a 32^nd degree Brazen Hussy of which there are only three in the world and two of them are dead. I was looked up to and admired by all of the hussies in attendance.

On Thursday evening, we had our gala dinner and farewell. I was keynote speaker for the event and I also spend several hours before hand autographing various convention items for the attendees. In my speech, I spoke of the hussy philosophy and how we must promote it to others throughout the world. I related the story of the young, female co-pilot and how her life-long ambition had been to achieve the title of “hussy”. By the time the story was finished, there was barely a dry eye in the room and the completion of my speech was met with a standing ovation which seemed to never end. As I stood there smiling and waving looking over the crowd, I spotted the young, female pilot surrounded by wanton hussies. At that moment I knew that she was in good hands and that I dare not worry another moment about her.

As luck would have it, on my way back to my penthouse suite at the hotel, I remembered that I had a five dollar chit in my pocket which the hotel had given me to entice me into the casino. As I walked by a dollar slot, I slipped the ticket into the slot and gave the handle a pull. As might be expected, all hell broke loose as the winning combination rolled up on the dials. Suddenly, much to my chagrin, I was the center of attention and was also the new owner of seemingly oodles and gobs of money. Rather than hang around risk being recognized by the crowd which would only create chaos on the casino floor, I simply asked the manager to have the money deposited directly into one of my many off-shores accounts in the Bahamas. That done, my expense for the entire trip had been more than covered and I had winnings left over to buy me a new swimming pool. But that is the way things go in the life of a hussy.

I slithered out of Sin City that evening on the red-eye flight in the hope that the sleepy-headed losers who populated the passengers on the aircraft would not notice my presence in their midst. My calculations were correct and I was able to slip into my first class seat and cover myself with a blanket. My stealth allowed me to sleep all the way back to Dallas without the slightest interruption. It is these times in the life of the famed that we give thanks.

Arriving back in the Dallas area, I quickly set about sending off thank you notes to the various attendees and those in charge of the Hussy Convention. I offered them my thanks and told them what a wonderful and successful convention it had been yet again this year as in the past. I then got back to the chores at hand and returned to my writing duties. I knew that my loyal fans would quickly want to hear of yet another adventure of the “Brazen Hussy” and I could not disappoint them or keep them waiting in suspense.

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