Cindy

   A woman walks the sidewalks of the Upper East side, wearing a black coat with the fur collar and stilettos that only native New York-er can walk in. She sees the dimly lit neon sign at the entrance of that sleazy bar that men who are looking for affairs frequent at 2 am.

They tell their wives they're backed up on reports.
Their wives aren't stupid.
They're just scared.

   The woman turns into the alley by the filth and gin in the club next to her, and takes the back entrance. The moment she walks in the door she is being guided by the manager who is rambling on about her being late, and maybe the woman he met here two nights earlier. She slips off her coat to reveal the 40's bombshell she is and adjusts her red, two sizes too tight dress. Her manager hangs up the coat while still rambling on and on about how his girl likes apple martini's and how her ankles were carved by the gods, and the woman just pushes past him to slip into her dressing room.

She quickly closes the door behind her and sits at her vanity. She looks in the mirror.
She sees the dark, luscious curls that gently caress her shoulders.
She sees the deep green eyes that hide behind her long curly lashes.
She sees the plunging v-line that her mother would have slapped her for wearing.
But she thought to herself "Mamma, I don't have a choice", and pushed the thought from her mind.
She sees her pouty full lips as she brushes more red wax on them for the animals her manager calls "customers".

   She hears pounding at her door accompanied by the shouting of her manager that go along the lines of "You're on in 5 missy! You better well not be late this time or it will cost you your job!"
She gently rises from her seat and opens the door to find him in a sweat, furiously gripping his clip board and pushing back his greasy hair.

"The band is already out there waiting for you! Get out their or I'll kick your.."

She just walks past him onto the stage up to the mic. She looks into the sea of monsters and cigars.

They make her sick.

The spotlight comes on and showers her in materialistic light. The applause, cat calls, whistles and
profanities erupt and all she can do is close her eyes. Close her eyes and pretend its not real.

The band starts her opening number.
She opens her eyes.
She opens her mouth.
The club goes silent.