by Anthony Venutolo
Inside one of the darkest bars on the planet, away from the smoldering Vegas sun, two newlyweds barreled into my daytime bar, just off Freemont. Fresh-faced and scrubbed (he with his craggy polo and flip-flops, she with an equally wrinkled sun dress); they didn’t jibe since it was the kind of joint people came to when they just didn’t care anymore. The Atomic: a would-be beacon in a sea of grimeholes, beckoning its hopeless. And what of them? Lonely Nevada drunks, crappy pickpockets, former goddesses well beyond turning their tricks, and sunken men without prospect who abruptly discovered they were 46, scratchy and achy. Even the fucking jukebox gave up.
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The 6S Newsletter
Six of the Month Award - 01/09
The nominees were selected based on an eclectic combination of writing prowess, style, appeal, great & six-tacular votes, number & substance of comments, specific site traffic, and a strong overall impression on the secret 6S editorial board. You may vote for one author, or all six. Votes will be cast here (below), on the 6S Social Network, via a survey sent to 6S Newsletter Subscribers, and in the comments section on the main site's announcement post. Write-in votes (via email) are also welcome. You may vote in one or all of these venues. The winner will be announced on Wednesday, February 11th.
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