
CAROUSEL BAR / DOWN IN HOLY CROSS by Autumn Holladay
Carousel Bar I miss 99-cent margaritas served at the old strip from 6:00 a.m. to noon. I’d sit and sip and watch the sex workers rest on slot machine stools after their shift. Most tourists weren’t around at that hour—just the cleaners and the junkies and the loners, and I thought they were my kind of people. The bartender invited me to shower with her after her shift. I believed there was no better way to spend my last day in Vegas. Her name was Holly. She wore a leather corset and when she took it off, tattoos took…