It is nearly nine o'clock when Emma makes her appearance at the 150. Pushing her way past the doorman – a big sixer who knows the two of you well enough to humor her intrusion, and to ignore the protests of the other club-goers who continue to wait in queue outside – she hurriedly weaves through the tables.
Scuttling right up to you, she doesn't even wait for you to greet her, "Cati! Let’s blow! I've got the invite to an unreal show in the Heights. It's at the Audubon." Noting the dubious look on Ecatirina's face, she adds, "It's no society hop – you remember Mags Whitcombe? Word is she was on a little tripski around the world and she picked up a new crush in the Far East. Ramanammy. But he's a real Oriental sheik – er, swami, or somethin'." She produces two invitations printed on cheap paper. "One for you, one for a date – whadd'ya say? Ya wanna be my lady for the evenin'?"
"Well, sure thing!" Cati replied. She took a final sip of her cocktail, wincing as she did so. "You know, I'll never get used to the taste of this stuff, even when covered up with cola."
"Then stop beating your gums, and let's get a wiggle on!" Emma said. "Where's your coat?"
As they walked out of the club, Cati lit a cigarette and remarked, "So... Mags is back in town? And fraternizing with Orientals! My, my."
Telephone message
2 comments:
It is nearly nine o'clock when Emma makes her appearance at the 150. Pushing her way past the doorman – a big sixer who knows the two of you well enough to humor her intrusion, and to ignore the protests of the other club-goers who continue to wait in queue outside – she hurriedly weaves through the tables.
Scuttling right up to you, she doesn't even wait for you to greet her, "Cati! Let’s blow! I've got the invite to an unreal show in the Heights. It's at the Audubon." Noting the dubious look on Ecatirina's face, she adds, "It's no society hop – you remember Mags Whitcombe? Word is she was on a little tripski around the world and she picked up a new crush in the Far East. Ramanammy. But he's a real Oriental sheik – er, swami, or somethin'." She produces two invitations printed on cheap paper. "One for you, one for a date – whadd'ya say? Ya wanna be my lady for the evenin'?"
"Well, sure thing!" Cati replied. She took a final sip of her cocktail, wincing as she did so. "You know, I'll never get used to the taste of this stuff, even when covered up with cola."
"Then stop beating your gums, and let's get a wiggle on!" Emma said. "Where's your coat?"
As they walked out of the club, Cati lit a cigarette and remarked, "So... Mags is back in town? And fraternizing with Orientals! My, my."
Post a Comment