Etcetera 6.

Friday morning in Las Vegas. A perfect golf breeze blows down Paradise Road, then everything stops.

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The joggers of the Strip unite in the shadow of a junk removal site.

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This is an all man-made course. It is difficult to exit.

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A goose walks into the sports book.

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So you could sit here and watch a football game? Great.

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Another rotten tennis court, another exploding swimming pool.

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In this boxing gym we teach the science not the violence.

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Betty Boop used to shoot craps here.

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Damn, the machine got me.

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We got stuck in the elevator and listened to the rest of Game 3 on the intercom.

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Dallas has very good odds. Odds subject to change.

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Look at that arena, as near as it is far away.

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You fellows up for some Riviera roof ball?

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What’s a Miami Marlin doing in Vegas?

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This little black book? It’s full of bets.

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Midday he got high on vodka and lay out on the empty pitch and dreamed of a plastic donkey race.

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No one’s winning, the bells aren’t going off, is that it?

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Unlimited golf is back — any time.

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On the way out, a series of broken signs.

Written By

Joshua Baldwin is an editor at Eephus. He is the author of The Wilshire Sun, a novella. His writing has appeared in The Paris Review, n+1, The Brooklyn Rail, Chicago Review, Prelude, and elsewhere. He lives in Los Angeles. Reach him at josh@eephusmag.com.

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