Nothing happened last night with Karen. I wanted to sit on the porch at the Hotel Lenhart and have ice cream, but she had wilder ideas. Allen Park and ice cream cones just wasn’t enough excitement for her. She convinced me that the Hotel St. Elmo in Mayville was the happening place. I had only one beer. She had three drinks—a Cosmopolitan, a glass of red wine, and a 16-oz Schlitz. It was a slow night. There were only three other people in the bar and the bartender didn’t ask Karen for her I.D.
While driving around the lake, she said, “Let’s go to Midway. I got to pee.”
So, I drove to Midway Amusement Park. Mostly, we played Skee-Ball but then she wanted to ride the Twirl-A-Whirl. We did, and about two minutes after, she said, “I don’t feel good.”
And, about thirty seconds later, Karen t
