Exploring her new neighborhood, Lola came across an ominous man. He was in an involved conversation with another man, with not-so-lady-like ladies hanging on his arms, eccentrically dressed: a wide brimmed hat with a feather, a gaudy, cheap suit, and a cane. The ominous man shooed the feathered-hat man and the trollops away as he caught sight of Lola’s questioning glance.
"Haven’t seen you before...that’s strange. I know everybody and everything that goes on in this city. I own this city."
"Goodness gracious," Lola thought to herself "I must be talking to the mayor or something."
" I am Dominic Roberto Machelli."
" Ooooh, what an exotic name," pondered Lola.
The trusting and naive Lola poured out her heart about why she had come to Washington Heights and how she was trying to be a showgirl.
"Well I own the bar. You can come and show anything... I mean any time you want," he said with a smirk.
Her chance meeting of Dominic Roberto Machelli had resulted in this gracious offer to "give her a shot" at being a showgirl in his bar. The oh so optimistic Lola thought a bar would be the perfect practice to prepare her for performances in the lovely lounges in Vegas, so she eagerly accepted.
********
Lola’s lively prance melted into a dragging shuffling of her feet as she neared her stage. She was not feeling so good about this show any more, but Dominic had been nice enough to let her give her routine a try. The red, smokey light hid everything but the hungry, glossy, glassy glances all awaiting her show. As Viva Las Vegas began to blare though the busted bar speakers, she timidly began to strut her stuff. "Take it off" she heard. "Oh how fortunate! They must want me to take off this dreadfully heavy sequined hat." She tossed the headdress onto which she had painstakingly sewn the sequins. Then she was comfortable. She was really moving now, but the people were still telling her to remove something. Lola was very confused. As she pondered what they could possibly want her to remove, a roaming hand slid up her stocking as another one ripped her feather boa from around her neck. She swatted the hand, and fumbled as she lost her balance. What kind of place is this. She looked around for some comforting glance, but she was only met with angry clouded eyes of boozed-up men, the laughing eyes of Molina Rose, and the disappointed yet amused stare of Dominic. As she stood petrified on the stage a sneaking snake of a man had slithered behind her and began to loosen her corset. Lola ran, her costume sliding off of her as her tears rolled down her cheeks. Back in the refuge of the bar bathroom, she gathered her possessions as she tried to pull her costume and herself back together. She blew past Molina Rose and tried to hurry out past Dominic. She didn’t know what he might do to her. Too late he had already seen her try to leave. He did not move, he did not look up from trying to clean grimy glasses Lola simply heard him chuckle as she left in tears: "Hey kid for a show girl you sure didn’t show much of anything!"
********
The wind blew wisps of Lola’s hair as walked toward the thrift store. She shuddered as the cool breeze sent shivers up her spine. The memory of that night in the bar haunted her. The yellow feathers, that flew as she tried to escape strangled her thoughts, the heels that she broke when running back to her lonely apartment matched her broken heart and dreams. She swallowed the growing lump in her throat and looked up at the sky for some tiny ray of sunshiny hope. Nothing. Just clouds, clouds, clouds, and cold, dreary, drippy wind. Wasn’t it ever sunny in Washington Heights? She received her answer as she entered the thrift store and saw the lackluster shoe selection. "Oh fiddle sticks...they don’t even have any heels to cheer me up. It is never sunny in Washington Heights never. This place is just not very lovely at all. Lola stood in front of the sorry excuse for shoes and shed a tear.
"Haven’t seen you before...that’s strange. I know everybody and everything that goes on in this city. I own this city."
"Goodness gracious," Lola thought to herself "I must be talking to the mayor or something."
" I am Dominic Roberto Machelli."
" Ooooh, what an exotic name," pondered Lola.
The trusting and naive Lola poured out her heart about why she had come to Washington Heights and how she was trying to be a showgirl.
"Well I own the bar. You can come and show anything... I mean any time you want," he said with a smirk.
Her chance meeting of Dominic Roberto Machelli had resulted in this gracious offer to "give her a shot" at being a showgirl in his bar. The oh so optimistic Lola thought a bar would be the perfect practice to prepare her for performances in the lovely lounges in Vegas, so she eagerly accepted.
********
Lola’s lively prance melted into a dragging shuffling of her feet as she neared her stage. She was not feeling so good about this show any more, but Dominic had been nice enough to let her give her routine a try. The red, smokey light hid everything but the hungry, glossy, glassy glances all awaiting her show. As Viva Las Vegas began to blare though the busted bar speakers, she timidly began to strut her stuff. "Take it off" she heard. "Oh how fortunate! They must want me to take off this dreadfully heavy sequined hat." She tossed the headdress onto which she had painstakingly sewn the sequins. Then she was comfortable. She was really moving now, but the people were still telling her to remove something. Lola was very confused. As she pondered what they could possibly want her to remove, a roaming hand slid up her stocking as another one ripped her feather boa from around her neck. She swatted the hand, and fumbled as she lost her balance. What kind of place is this. She looked around for some comforting glance, but she was only met with angry clouded eyes of boozed-up men, the laughing eyes of Molina Rose, and the disappointed yet amused stare of Dominic. As she stood petrified on the stage a sneaking snake of a man had slithered behind her and began to loosen her corset. Lola ran, her costume sliding off of her as her tears rolled down her cheeks. Back in the refuge of the bar bathroom, she gathered her possessions as she tried to pull her costume and herself back together. She blew past Molina Rose and tried to hurry out past Dominic. She didn’t know what he might do to her. Too late he had already seen her try to leave. He did not move, he did not look up from trying to clean grimy glasses Lola simply heard him chuckle as she left in tears: "Hey kid for a show girl you sure didn’t show much of anything!"
********
The wind blew wisps of Lola’s hair as walked toward the thrift store. She shuddered as the cool breeze sent shivers up her spine. The memory of that night in the bar haunted her. The yellow feathers, that flew as she tried to escape strangled her thoughts, the heels that she broke when running back to her lonely apartment matched her broken heart and dreams. She swallowed the growing lump in her throat and looked up at the sky for some tiny ray of sunshiny hope. Nothing. Just clouds, clouds, clouds, and cold, dreary, drippy wind. Wasn’t it ever sunny in Washington Heights? She received her answer as she entered the thrift store and saw the lackluster shoe selection. "Oh fiddle sticks...they don’t even have any heels to cheer me up. It is never sunny in Washington Heights never. This place is just not very lovely at all. Lola stood in front of the sorry excuse for shoes and shed a tear.
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