For an EMT, 48-hour shifts patching up victims of fender benders and bruised-up brawlers on the Vegas Strip were painfully monotonous.

Just like every other weekend, I knew this one would be busy. I was sure to be running from call to call all night. I figured I’d be lucky to get dinner in.

I was checking out my rescue when Serena, an old friend, called and said she was headed into town. We’d met at the Crazy Horse years before it had closed. She was bartending, and I had blown my last $40 for a lap dance with the twins. We had struck up an easy conversation, with her comping me a couple of drinks. Unable to tip her, I felt foolish and promised to return. Skeptical, she just shook her head and waved me off.

I returned the next day near lunchtime, leaving her $60 and a note with my number in... Leer Más