Down For The Count

Started by Blair Blankenship at Apr 04, 2020 11:54 PM
March 15, 1924
1703 Views
94 Posts

Dorothy Dare

Bohemian
290
?Years Young
23 Posts

"Hello, I'm Dotty Dare, I like to express myself in clay!"


"I am afraid, though, that I will have to sadly and regrettably, demur.  I know I shall doubtless kick myself from here to breakfast time someday for this decision, but I hope you understand."

“Awwww!” pouted Dotty. She was really having trouble finding a suitable model for this one. “That’s a pity.”

Muff shrugged his shoulders “Problem is, Blair here is one of the Hyannis Port Blankenships! He doesn’t need the dough like us regular mugs. You need to find someone who doesn’t know where his next meal is coming from.” He advised, playing on pianist’s supposed wealth. Some guys had all the luck. Blair could play the piano, had good looks, wealth and had 20/20 vision. Muff could play the trombone. Oh well, one out of four was better than none out of four.

“It’s a pity you spent all your money on that Private Detective.” Muff added, remembering Dotty’s unfortunate incident of a couple of weeks ago.

Miss Dare sighed “Yes, but it’s no good crying over spilt milk. I could try going down to the beach and asking some of the Adonises down there who are always showing off their bodies, but I don’t want to get run in again. Well, no hard feelings, chaps – both you boys are welcome to pop into the Nook anytime for those dumplings and you can keep all of your clothes on.”


Blair Blankenship

78
?Years Young
34 Posts

"If I'd known that this is the way it'd all turn out, I never would have kissed my father goodbye."


Miss Dare sighed “Yes, but it’s no good crying over spilt milk. I could try going down to the beach and asking some of the Adonises down there who are always showing off their bodies, but I don’t want to get run in again. Well, no hard feelings, chaps – both you boys are welcome to pop into the Nook anytime for those dumplings and you can keep all of your clothes on.”

Blair reached over and warmly clasped her hands.  He suddenly felt very sorry for her.

"Nothing would make me happier than spending time with you at the Nook and a taste of those dumplings."  Then, realizing he was staring at her well developed breasts, added,   "Food, I mean."

She still looked hurt. 

"Hey, I wouldn't turn my nose up at three dollars an hour.  That's a lot of gelt, lettuce, smackers, and samoleons."    He hoped he was cheering her up.

"Tell you what," he continued, turning to his boss.  "Muff, is there any way we could get Dotty here a good seat at one of our performances?  I would think that we'd a little bit was influence as to which guests we can invite.  Is it in our contract?"

 

 

 

 



Loved 1

Dorothy Dare

Bohemian
290
?Years Young
23 Posts

"Hello, I'm Dotty Dare, I like to express myself in clay!"


"Nothing would make me happier than spending time with you at the Nook and a taste of those dumplings."  Then, realizing he was staring at her well developed breasts, added,   "Food, I mean."

She followed his line of sight and raised her eyebrows at him, but she still looked hurt that he’d turned down her offer – it was rare to be given a commission like that.

"Hey, I wouldn't turn my nose up at three dollars an hour.  That's a lot of gelt, lettuce, smackers, and samoleons."    He hoped he was cheering her up.

“But you just did turn your nose up at it, you naughty boy!” she admonished, wagging a schoolmarm finger at him, while Muff quietly chuckled at his  attempts to charm his way out of the impasse.

"Tell you what," he continued, turning to his boss.  "Muff, is there any way we could get Dotty here a good seat at one of our performances?  I would think that we'd a little bit was influence as to which guests we can invite.  Is it in our contract?"

“Er, No, not really.” replied Muff blankly, happy to stick a pin in that little balloon. “Gee, Blair, when we’re on that ship we’re going to be practically slaves, at the beck and call of the Captain, and the Singer lady and probably the cabin boy too, we’re the musicians, the lowest of the low.”

“Oh, I hope they don’t make you strip off and row the thing around in loincloths, like those galley slaves you see in all the moving pictures!” Dotty gasped, in mock horror at the picturesque idea.


Blair Blankenship

78
?Years Young
34 Posts

"If I'd known that this is the way it'd all turn out, I never would have kissed my father goodbye."


"Tell you what," he continued, turning to his boss.  "Muff, is there any way we could get Dotty here a good seat at one of our performances?  I would think that we'd a little bit was influence as to which guests we can invite.  Is it in our contract?"

“Er, No, not really.” replied Muff blankly, happy to stick a pin in that little balloon. “Gee, Blair, when we’re on that ship we’re going to be practically slaves, at the beck and call of the Captain, and the Singer lady and probably the cabin boy too, we’re the musicians, the lowest of the low.”

“Oh, I hope they don’t make you strip off and row the thing around in loincloths, like those galley slaves you see in all the moving pictures!” Dotty gasped, in mock horror at the picturesque idea.

Being told he was a slave and the lowest of the low was not at all appealing to Blair.  "Hey.  I'm not some kind of anarchist but maybe guys like you," he said pointing at Muff, "..and me," he pointed to himself, "need to form one of those labor unions.  That way we can name our terms and get better conditions."

Jesus, he thought.  I sound like one of those Communists I heard on campus.

Dorothy looked so hurt that he began to feel a swell of sympathy for her.

"OK .. what if I say yes?  I'll agree to model for you so long as no one ever finds out it was me posing like The Thinker?  The same goes for you, Muff.  Something like this could ruin a guy, ... three bucks an hour or not."

He immediately regretted what he'd just said, but he was in desperate straits.  He mused that this was being a prostitute.  My God!  What would Mother think?"

 

 


Loved 1

Dorothy Dare

Bohemian
290
?Years Young
23 Posts

"Hello, I'm Dotty Dare, I like to express myself in clay!"


Being told he was a slave and the lowest of the low was not at all appealing to Blair.  "Hey.  I'm not some kind of anarchist but maybe guys like you," he said pointing at Muff, "..and me," he pointed to himself, "need to form one of those labor unions.  That way we can name our terms and get better conditions."

“Oh Blair! You are a budding Bolshevik!” gushed Dotty with excitement. “You could be the next Lenin!” she declared, somewhat unrealistically, referencing the great Soviet leader who had died less than two months ago. “I should love to visit the Soviets” she added, like many an artist she suffered from rather pie-eyed leftist leanings “The fine arts are flourishing there you know - Avilov, Arkhipov, Bobyshov, Vakhrameev, Dormidontov, Klever, Kotov, Svarog, Frentz!” she shouted out the name.

“And that’s just one person!” commented Muff, archly.

“Please don’t mock me Muff!” Dotty pouted “I’m still down in the dumps about Blair, he would have made such a ..”

"OK .. what if I say yes?  I'll agree to model for you so long as no one ever finds out it was me posing like The Thinker?  The same goes for you, Muff.  Something like this could ruin a guy, ... three bucks an hour or not."

Dotty and Muff, of course, assumed that he had caved in because of her pleading, not because he needed the dough.

“Now I feel like I’ve pressured you into it!” the plump artist admitted “Look, I’ll write down my number and you can give me a call tomorrow if you still feel up to it after sleeping on it!” she temporised, hoping that he would still agree to it at the end of the day. He would be just perfect.


Blair Blankenship

78
?Years Young
34 Posts

"If I'd known that this is the way it'd all turn out, I never would have kissed my father goodbye."


“Please don’t mock me Muff!” Dotty pouted “I’m still down in the dumps about Blair, he would have made such a ..”

"OK .. what if I say yes?  I'll agree to model for you so long as no one ever finds out it was me posing like The Thinker?  The same goes for you, Muff.  Something like this could ruin a guy, ... three bucks an hour or not."

Dotty and Muff, of course, assumed that he had caved in because of her pleading, not because he needed the dough.

“Now I feel like I’ve pressured you into it!” the plump artist admitted “Look, I’ll write down my number and you can give me a call tomorrow if you still feel up to it after sleeping on it!” she temporised, hoping that he would still agree to it at the end of the day. He would be just perfect.

"No .. what I propose and perform,"  Blair said.  Once he made his mind up to something, he saw it to the end .. sometimes bitter end.  Time would tell which this would shake out.  "But I'll take your phone number," he said, winking at Dotty, the dimples in his cheeks irresistible.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked, including Muff. "Speaking of phone numbers of famous people?"  He gathered them close to him and his voice lowered as he was about to impart something quite top secret.

"We had one of the Hollywood studio heads to our home in the Hamptons a couple of years ago and, after a couple of stiff drinks, he told us this.  "These famous beauties in the picture business;  Clara Bow, Mary Pickford, Nita Naldi -- by the millions they write to them begging for a lock of hair, a lipstick print on a tissue, a silk stocking.  If they only knew that if they just rang a doorbell, ... they'd get everything."

Blair looked at them to see what kind of impact this insider knowledge had on them.

 


Loved 1

Dorothy Dare

Bohemian
290
?Years Young
23 Posts

"Hello, I'm Dotty Dare, I like to express myself in clay!"


"No .. what I propose and perform," Blair said.  Once he made his mind up to something, he saw it to the end .. sometimes bitter end.  Time would tell which this would shake out.  "But I'll take your phone number," he said, winking at Dotty, the dimples in his cheeks irresistible.

Smiling triumphantly, Dotty quickly produced a scrap of paper, the flyer for some exhibition of contemporary Dadaist artwork, and found a blank area upon which she could inscribe her name, address and telephone number with a short 2B pencil. Her calligraphy was a work of art in itself, and made the reproductions of the paintings on the flyer look somewhat crude in comparison.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked, including Muff. "Speaking of phone numbers of famous people?"  He gathered them close to him and his voice lowered as he was about to impart something quite top secret.

“Yes?” said Ms Dare, tilting her head slightly, like a curious puppy.

Muff’s “I suppose so!” was a little less inquisitive.

"We had one of the Hollywood studio heads to our home in the Hamptons a couple of years ago and, after a couple of stiff drinks, he told us this.  "These famous beauties in the picture business;  Clara Bow, Mary Pickford, Nita Naldi -- by the millions they write to them begging for a lock of hair, a lipstick print on a tissue, a silk stocking.  If they only knew that if they just rang a doorbell, ... they'd get everything."

Blair looked at them to see what kind of impact this insider knowledge had on them.

“Oh, whose doorbell?” asked Dotty, the thing had gone right over her head.

“Why, the producer feller’s doorbell, of course!” Muff helpfully explained to her what he thought Blair meant.

“Ohhh yes, I see, I suppose it saves on the postage.” She cooed. “Blair, you must tell us where this producer chap lives, even though I’m more of a cat person really, I’m absolutely wild about Rin Tin Tin and I would simply kill for a signed photograph or a lock of his hair!”

“Fur!” Muff corrected.

“Well, anything fluffy really.” She shrugged. “Mind you, I suppose if he did that for all his ‘fans’ the poor doggie would be as bald as a French poodle.”


Blair Blankenship

78
?Years Young
34 Posts

"If I'd known that this is the way it'd all turn out, I never would have kissed my father goodbye."


“Oh, whose doorbell?” asked Dotty, the thing had gone right over her head.

“Why, the producer feller’s doorbell, of course!” Muff helpfully explained to her what he thought Blair meant.

“Ohhh yes, I see, I suppose it saves on the postage.” She cooed. “Blair, you must tell us where this producer chap lives, even though I’m more of a cat person really, I’m absolutely wild about Rin Tin Tin and I would simply kill for a signed photograph or a lock of his hair!”

“Fur!” Muff corrected.

“Well, anything fluffy really.” She shrugged. “Mind you, I suppose if he did that for all his ‘fans’ the poor doggie would be as bald as a French poodle.”

Blair was disappointed.   His little tidbit flew over both their heads. His crowd up in New England got it every time. 

This exchanged cemented in Blair's mind the attributes he would now ascribe to both Muff and Dotty.   His impression of Muff .. quarried early in his dealings with him as temporary piano player a couple of years earlier, was of a person very one dimensional.  There wasn't  much loft to him about Middle C nor much baseness below it either.   As for Dotty, she seemed so innocent and yet had an endearing eagerness for life.  She was a "dear" person and someone in need of protection.

"Sort of," he answered them, anxious to move on to some other topic.

"Where do we go from here?" he asked, reaching for his pocket watch.  "We could hit the Four Deuces or someplace else we could get some hooch."

 


Dorothy Dare

Bohemian
290
?Years Young
23 Posts

"Hello, I'm Dotty Dare, I like to express myself in clay!"


"Sort of," he answered them, anxious to move on to some other topic.

“Oh dear!” cried Dotty “Have we rather missed the point of your bon mot, Blair dear?” she asked concerned.

“Ah, he said we’d ’sort of’ gotten it – ‘sort of’ is near enough for me.” The trombonist philosophised.

"Where do we go from here?" he asked, reaching for his pocket watch.  "We could hit the Four Deuces or someplace else we could get some hooch."

“Four Deuces? That’s rather dear for my purse!” gasped Dotty, whose devil-may-care attitude to money often left her short.

“And it’s kinda early!” added Muff, glancing up at the big clock outside the broadcasting studio.

“I’d need to go home and change into something more ritzy!” reasoned Dotty now, examining her workaday tweeds. “Oh, but do let’s go! Sounds like heaps of fun!”

“We could sneak in the back and sit in with the band!” beamed Muff, an imaginary lit lightbulb appearing over his bespectacled bonce.

“What about me?” worried Dotty “Can I pretend to be your music turner?” she asked Blair, not realising that most of the dance band men either played by ear, if they were jamming, or used special, and somewhat cramped and small, sheet music parts that fitted the whole song onto a few sides of paper, with no need for a page turner, like a classical piano player might employ.

She rather fancied the idea of sitting next to the handsome Blair, following the music and turning the page for him at the end of the correct bar.


Blair Blankenship

78
?Years Young
34 Posts

"If I'd known that this is the way it'd all turn out, I never would have kissed my father goodbye."


“Oh dear!” cried Dotty “Have we rather missed the point of your bon mot, Blair dear?” she asked concerned.

“Ah, he said we’d ’sort of’ gotten it – ‘sort of’ is near enough for me.” The trombonist philosophised.

"Well what's the use of a bon mot if it isn't misunderstood?"  Blair answered with a smile and the wave of his hand.  He remembering that one of the first rules of the well bred is never to seem rattled, flummoxed and caught flat footed.

"Where do we go from here?" he asked, reaching for his pocket watch.  "We could hit the Four Deuces or someplace else we could get some hooch."

“Four Deuces? That’s rather dear for my purse!” gasped Dotty, whose devil-may-care attitude to money often left her short.

"Nah!  It isn't that bad," Blair reassured them.  Besides, the owner lets me run a chit .. or like run a tab.  I pay it off every couple of weeks."    The truth was, while Blair ran a chit, it wasn't an impressive one and it took dear funds from Blair's slim larder. 

“And it’s kinda early!” added Muff, glancing up at the big clock outside the broadcasting studio.

“I’d need to go home and change into something more ritzy!” reasoned Dotty now, examining her workaday tweeds. “Oh, but do let’s go! Sounds like heaps of fun!”

“We could sneak in the back and sit in with the band!” beamed Muff, an imaginary lit lightbulb appearing over his bespectacled bonce.

"Sounds capital," enthused Blair.  "I know some of the fellas there ..er .. not in a professional way but just as good buddies."

“What about me?” worried Dotty “Can I pretend to be your music turner?” she asked Blair, not realising that most of the dance band men either played by ear, if they were jamming, or used special, and somewhat cramped and small, sheet music parts that fitted the whole song onto a few sides of paper, with no need for a page turner, like a classical piano player might employ.

She rather fancied the idea of sitting next to the handsome Blair, following the music and turning the page for him at the end of the correct bar.

"I think you look great the way you look right now,"  Blair insisted.  "And let me tell you;  you are so charming and so full life that I'm sure you'll be a new fashion setter.  I really do. Er. .. wait a minute.  Can you dance in those duds?"

For Blair, it was not even the shank of the evening.  They had time to change.  He was just trying to flatter Dotty who, in his mind, had an endearing eagerness for life.  She was quite attractive in a smart and unabashed way.  She was one of the "modern girls", many such as he'd seen in his college classes.

"So can you?"  he pressed.