We finally arrived at the Dam. We avoided the parking garage and continued up the road, driving until we came to an overlook point. Every bad "Dam" joke crossed my mind as we parked and walked to the railing. There was a mist coming up from water, and I leaned over the rail, feeling it hit my face. Brad leaned over also, then stopped as the railing shifted a bit under his weight. We laughed and he stepped back a few steps, putting his hands in his pockets and looking out. The dam looked like a huge bowl - curved walls of concrete with a building built in one side. There was a plaque at our overlook and we wandered over to it.
Fun Dam Facts[1]
Chief dam engineer Frank T. Crowe lived up to his nickname, “Hurry Up” Crowe. The dam was completed two years ahead of schedule, in 1935.
Hoover Dam is filled with 3.25 million cubic yards of concrete, enough to pave a strip 16 feet wide and 8 inches thick from San Francisco to New York City.
If the heat produced by the curing concrete could have been concentrated in a baking oven, it could have baked 500,000 loaves of bread per day for three years.
High scalers, the workers who hung from ropes on the canyon walls as they drilled with jackhammers and packed dy***ite, included circus acrobats, among others. Sometimes for fun when the foremen weren’t looking, high scalers would swing out from the canyon walls and perform stunts for the workers below.
Hoover Dam is named for Herbert Hoover, the nation’s 31st president. After he left office, the names “Boulder Canyon Dam” and “Boulder Dam” were frequently used, allegedly because the new Secretary of the Interior did not like the former president.
Two winged figures, 30 feet tall and made of bronze, stand on the Nevada side’s approach to the dam. Legend has it that rubbing their toes brings good luck.
The total cost of the bypass bridge is $240 million, $100 million in federal funds, $20 million each from Nevada and Arizona, and $100 million in state bond funds.
At its base, Hoover Dam is as thick (660 ft.) as two footballs fields measured end-to-end.
Lake Mead is the largest reservoir in the USA and contains enough water to flood the entire state of New York with 1 ft. of water (26 million acre ft.).
Between 1931 and 1936 when the dam was built, 96 men were killed in industrial accidents. None were buried in the concrete.
Reading in silence, I finished before him and walked back over to the railing. Two football fields thick? It didn't look that thick. I heard him come up behind me and he put his hands on my waist, squeezing me. "Want to go on the tour?" he asked.
"No, unless you want to. I'm not really a tour type girl."
"Sounds good to me. Want to eat lunch out here?"
"Depends… how good is Evelyn's cooking?"
"Let's see what she packed. It's hit or miss."
We opened the cooler. It was jammed full. If stranded out here, there was enough food to eat for a week. She had chicken and egg salad sandwiches, raw carrots, sliced apples, 3 bags of chips, baby brownie bites, and grapes. She had also packed 3 bottles lemonades.
"Good - chicken salad she does well. Let eat here."
We sat on the hood of Brad's car, the cooler in between us, and ate looking out on the view. That high up there was a nice breeze, and it felt just about perfect.
"So," I said, munching on a raw carrot. "Tell me the full scoop on Evelyn. You guys are like, business partners in Safirre?"
He finished chewing a bite of sandwich and set it down on the car. "Evelyn's first husband was a surgeon. They lived in a big house, up in the Hills. When they divorced, she got a substantial amount of cash, enough to buy the house you saw today, plus had a bit left over."
"What's a bit?" I couldn't help it - I'm nosy.
He raised an eyebrow at me, then shrugged. "Two hundred grand, maybe a little more. Around that time I was looking at opening a club in Vegas. I approached Evelyn, asked if she wanted to go in as a minority partner. She had been looking at different investments at that time, CDs, bonds, etc. I convinced her that her money would be better served at Safirre."
"A strip club? You convinced that little old lady that she should put her life savings in a strip club? What if it went belly up?"
He stared at me. "I'm not out to swindle old ladies out of their pensions. If the club had flopped, I would have covered her loss. We own the building - there's actual assets tied to her money. Plus, I don't see anyone complaining about the return Safirre has done. That "little old lady" has more than ten times that original investment now sitting in the bank."
"And she owns what percentage?"
"Thirty."
"You own seventy?"
"Sixty - I gave Janine ten percent."
"Why?"
"You'll learn in business that no one runs the company like the owner does. The ten percent ensures she stays honest, and doesn't look for another job. Janine is strong - the dancers like her, the clients like her, and I like her."
"You ever slept with her?"
"Why do you seem to ask me that with every woman we meet?"
"I didn't ask you that with Evelyn."
"Maybe you should have."
I recoiled and wrinkled my nose, scooting a little farther away from him on the hood. He laughed through his sip of lemonade.
"No, I haven't slept with Janine. She's too hard for me - I don't go for the muscular look."
"So that's why you haven't slept with her - because her body type isn't for you. Not because you think that it'd be a bad idea to screw your business partner."
He fixed his dark brown eyes on me and reached forward, gently wiping some mayonnaise from my lip - I pushed his hand away in irritation.
"I wouldn't have chosen a business partner, or manager that I was attracted to. I know my strengths. Staying away from good-looking women isn't one of them." He shot me a sly look. "But then again, you seem to suffer from the same problem."
I shot him a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"
He sat back on his hands and stretched his neck, looking at me through thick lashes. "You know, last night - you and Montana."
I sat there for a moment, thinking. Trying to sort through the drunken haze of memories. I vividly remembered the tour of the club with Montana. Then us getting to the table and Brad being gone. Then…I frowned trying to remember. We were going to do shots, tequila shots. She had to ask permission. Then… oh my god … My eyes widened as I had a brief memory of Montana's mouth on my bare br**sts - us kissing - and guys, lots of guys - their faces surrounding us, staring… I slumped down on the hood, laying back, my hand covering my face. "Oh god." I moaned, mortified. "It's what - one o'clock? And you’re just now mentioning this to me?!"