Degreed in things Southern, VIRGINIA LEE has acted under David Lynch in the movie Blue Velvet and "lived" in the year 1891 for eighteen months. She’s taught about dinosaurs, clerked in a casino, and sung Blues on Beale Street. Previous credits include poetry in the Dublin Writers Workshop's Electric Acorn 8 and short fiction in the Electric Acorn 11 and Where the Sidewalk Ends.

                                                             the paradise lounge


The torch singer was draped across the black baby grand piano. Dressed in flapper garb, her mannish hairstyle lost its usual androgyny. That night she needed to be all woman.

In sultry tones she crooned, "All men are gay until otherwise proven. And even then I have my doubts." The words echoed throughout the nightclub.

The heterosexual males in her audience shifted uncomfortably while the women and gay men leaned forward in anticipation. The chanteuse knew how to work the room. The quieter she sang the more spellbound the audience.

The pianist vamped as the singer slithered off the piano and strolled into the audience. The nightclub was SRO and patrons slid their chairs closer to their tables to give her room. The atmosphere was palpable as several of the woman's former lovers inhaled uneasily when she drew near. What secrets would she reveal?

Pausing in the center of the room, she sang:

"I've been around the block
A time or two my friends,
And I've known my share of
What you might call men,
But the men that I attract
Seem to have an affinity
For subjects relating to
The arts and humanities."

She moved again after the verse. Glittering beads danced around her knees creating a tinkling sound heard only by those nearest to her. At times she tarried, running her fingers through a man's hair or caressing a lady's dress. Seemingly casual, those she touched knew how deliberately she'd chosen.

"Is that a problem?
You may well ask.
Certainly some folks
Have taken me to task.
They say I value a man
Who shows a proclivity
For fine examples
Of creativity."

She meandered to the far wall across from the bar. The tables were occupied by intimate couples of varying sexes. Faces lit by the glow of flickering votives in red glass, the singer's fans sighed when she neared. Suddenly, she sat on the knee of an older man with a lothario's reputation. Pulling his head into her bosom she continued with the chorus:

"I want a man who likes Shakespeare,
The Gershwins, and Van Gogh,
Melissa Ethridge, k. d. lang,
Even Barry Manilow, (oh no!)
Judy Garland, and Bette Midler,
Da Vinci, Capote, and Rampal
The Bronte sisters, Andy Warhol
And so very many more."

The man tensed in her embrace. His heart pounded and his face reddened with each ensuing line. Just when he thought he'd explode, the singer stood and moved to the other end of the lounge.

By the end of her song she'd sat upon several more laps. The audience applauded wildly at the song's conclusion and whispered comments among the patrons were filled with rumor and innuendo just as the vocalist wanted.

The sad-eyed beauty smiled ruefully at her audience at the end of her set and said, "It's always good to play Newport. The Paradise Lounge is home and it is here that I wish to remain forever."

With that remark she lifted her skirt and drew a tiny pearl-handled pistol from her garter. In one motion she placed it at her temple and fired.

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© 2002 Virginia Lee