![]() Chelsea’s big day was two weeks away, so there we were, in Nassau, bachelorette-partying our country asses off. ![]() ![]() McCrory, Chelsea’s father and the king of the Atlanta carwash market. Six of us split between three rooms, the four hundred dollar nightly rate generously taken care of by Mr. We were at a craps table, a game that none of us understood, yet the Asians to our right were grinning and gesturing like we were hitting the mother lode, so we blew on dice and moved markers, and our chip stack continued to grow.Ĭhelsea. Flip-flops shared space with sequins and diamonds, the crowd a mix of sandy tourists and high rollers, eighteen-year-old spring breakers polka-dotting the mix with their wide eyes and slurred steps, the alcohol hitting their virgin systems hard. I didn’t belong here-not in a loud casino, smoke curling up the walls, disappearing into discreet vents. ![]() (adj.) close-fitting, especially uncomfortably so. ![]()
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