Saloon, So Long!
After lengthy convalescence on a dude ranch in Montana, yours truly celebrated her release from the beef tea bed-n-breakfast by taking a hike with the local Girl Guides. Somehow your intrepid adventurer got separated from the troupe of hardy explorers after sneaking out one night to use the ol’ log-line-loo. I was found three days later, eating buttons and smoking twigs, with an elderly bearded woodsman who turned out to be none other than that silver-haired fox, Eddie Tarrant. Although no one has seen him in a dog’s age, Eddie assured me that he’s planning a triumphant comeback as soon as his Hayes’ Code suspension has expired. Well, lasso me a low-ball, Eddie, and get back to the ol’ watering hole! Zapata!
Yours truly was massaging a wounded ego last night at MacHoulihan’s, when who should walk in but Hollywood’s newest It Girl and a picante Latin dreamboat. They tried to hide their passion, darlings, but if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s knowing when the glitterati of Tinseltown are making the beast with two backs. No one told me it was Mardi Gras! Ole!
Ladies’ Night at Lefty Bruvee’s Juke Joint is a raucous affair, my friends, and make no mistake! Yours truly despaired of making it through the pickled-egg cakewalk without injuring innocent passers-by. The room was that full of revelers! But shouldering (and elbowing) on through bravely, your pal gave it the old college try. And won! And who should be awarding the prizes but that notorious recluse, Hilda van Douten! Guess someone finally aired her out and slipped her a trolley token! Let me tell you, my lovelies – yours truly stumbled out onto the street after dawn much the worse for wear, but that ol’ scallywag, Hilda, was still going strong. Toot-toot, train’s pulling into the station!