A girl called Fancy, honest. She was a plane hostess for a Reno casino, was on the jets they sent for whales. Not a prostitute, because if she didn't want to go to bed with you there werent no amount of dough that would change that but, if you left a stack o' purp on the bedstand, she'd take it. Southern as a delta mist, Fancy just had that way of making you feel like you was a king. Pretty much the opposite of my type, she was great friends with my best Reno pal - a poker player, casino host and a true Maccabean among macs (one of those sum-greater-than-parts Italians that suits would fight to be worn by, i've seen several women hurt themselves following his progress down escalators). He and Fancy (who had alllllll the best drugs) and my Mary and i hung out a lot and she decided to check me out on one of my 'breaks' from my beloved. Won't kiss and tell, but she was like a Sondheim song - you could listen to absolutely everything else to try to get it out of your head but, for a month after, you wake up hummin' Fancy.
Even her death was sexy. No one knows for sure. She died on one of the jets. My pal said it was liver disease (from the booze & drugs) that she ignored and that he'd been with her to hospitals a LOT about that, but it was shonuff hushed up by a lot of important folks, leading to rumors that she ODed or, mostly, that she was strangled by one of her favorite clients, a southern governor, in a sex accident. I do know that asphyxia orgasms was a thing with her (tho i didnt do that ####), but i believe my pal.