MEMOIR · LAS VEGAS · A MAN ARGUING WITH GOD
The club gave him a name.
It took everything else.
Forty-eight hours ago, Ron lived in Connecticut—fiancée, shared car, a life with someone else’s name on the lease. Now he’s reclined in a rented Hyundai outside a Las Vegas strip club, two hundred dollars to his name, smoking his first cigarette in years because that’s the kind of week it’s been. In twelve minutes he starts work as a doorman at the world’s largest gentlemen’s club. He doesn’t recognize the face in the rearview mirror. Or maybe he does, and that’s the real problem.
Ron Dillon worked the door of a Las Vegas strip club for years, wearing another man’s name like a suit that fit better than his own. This is the book he wrote about it. Not a redemption story. Just what happened, what he did, and what he tried not to see.