Her real name is Ivy. Her dancing name is Innocent. I call her Incorrigible. Everyone has a soft spot for someone who doesn’t deserve it. For better or worse my heart melts for Ivy. In this case, it is for the worse.

Ivy’s family is composed of true southern crackers from a small Kentucky town. Ivy herself is the fourth of seven children born to a dirt-poor coal-mining mom and dad. Ivy will agree that only half of that statement is true. Dirt poor is a right-on description but neither her father nor two uncles have mined any coal in years.

She escaped her destiny of an early marriage and a passel of kids by sneaking away from home at age fourteen to a life of go-go dancing and stripping at some of the sleaziest, god-awful clubs ever perpetrated on the Southern male.  Yet, Ivy’s natural effervescence, her love of life and living in the moment overcame the filthy, backwoods bars. Her beauty and personality are infectious. Everyone around Ivy naturally hops on her bandwagon.

When she pops into Las Vegas