I’ve been spending too much time at the Riesen House Saloon in Gold Hill. It’s a drinking spot for out-of-luck miners and a few political hacks who come up from Carson City.
One of those guys is Orion, who wears fancy boots and an oversized cowboy hat and claims he’s the big boss of the Nevada Territory. He’s buzzed by noontime and just sits there, staring at himself in the gold-tinted mirror behind the bar.
I just hope Orion’s brother shows up. He tells great stories about navigating the Mississippi on a riverboat. He showed up in Virginia City to find gold and get rich. Fat chance! He’s a bit like me. All we can do is write okay and make a few bucks doing it. His name is Mark and he works for the Territorial Enterprise newspaper up the street. I could sit on my barstool all day listening to this fellow tell his crazy tales.
That’s me back in 1864. I like to think of Mark Twain as my drinking buddy.
I hope he gets out of town okay.