GIRLIE SHOW
ART (Speaking)
SAM
HANNAH
SQUAW
(In the dark we hear a live jazz combo. They aren’t terrific, but they can keep a tune. They are playing a version of “Everything Happens to Me” in a slow, suggestive way that is completely opposed to the nature of the song.
A spotlight comes up on a woman dancing in a Burlesque hall. The hall is pretty middle of the road, not a palace, but it’s not seedy. There is the inkling that perhaps it was home to vaudeville in its earlier days. Now the velvet curtains are a touch ratty and the paint is chipping, but there aren’t any rats.
In front of and below the dancer is the combo, as heard before. They play the tune with sort of a weary boredom, with no percussion at first.
SAM, the drummer, sits at his drum kit, his sticks resting on the snare, staring at the high hat. After a minute, one of the other band members hisses at him, SAM blinks and starts keeping time with the song.
They play and the woman continues to dance. She’s not good, worse than the band. She just stands center stage, sort of wiggling her rhythm-less hips with intermittent shoulder shimmies. She is nude with the exception of a g-string, some tassels tied to her arms, and an Indian headdress.
The song comes to a merciful end and the woman bows to a few claps and one or two wolf calls. ART, a red, sweaty, globular man in his mid-forties rushes in from off stage with a microphone)
ART
Give it up for “Little Squaw”, huh? C’mon! You give her a hand!
(The applause increase but not by much. She bows again and offers a little smile. As she passes him to head off stage he slaps her bare bottom with his hand.)
ART
Big Chief Arthur make wampum with “Little Squaw” later (He lets out a high pitched giggle). She’ll do anything for a ride to the liquor store!
(There is no rim shot, just a cough and slow clap from the back of the house. The band looks at SAM. ART glares down. He repeats the last three words of the joke with great emphasis.)
ART
The. Liquor. Store.
(SAM looks up and gives him a rim shot with no finesse whatsoever. BAH. DUM. BAH. TING. ART Scoffs)
ART
Heh. Heh. Ladies and Gentlemen, I guess you can’t get good white help these days, am I right? (Laughs at himself. There are a couple of guffaws from out in the audience. He transitions quickly to keep the show going.) But enough about my wife…let’s bring on some more girls. Let me here it!
(the Audience applauds a little, and there is some muttering complaint.)
ART
Our next girlie is brand new to the Emporium here…brand NEW, I say. She’s the saucy red head from Upstate New York! Let’s give it up for RED HOT HANNAH!
(ART jogs offstage and the spotlight hold for a second, anticipating the dancer’s entrance. The band begins to play Funky Blues or something by Coco Schumann. SAM doesn’t look up as they slur through the music.
HANNAH emerges from off stage and the crowd goes ape, hooting and whistling. HANNAH is a tall robust woman, in her mid-thirties. She stares out over the audience for a beat, wearing a purple g-string and shrouding herself in a sheer purple cloth. Her face is nearly expressionless, with a hint of a knowing gleam in her eye.
The music lurches on and she opens her arms wide, exposing her naked breasts. There is a cheer from the audience as she does this. She strides across the stage. Men call her name and whistle with abandon.
SAM is oblivious to all of this.
Once across the stage she turns and covers herself again, peeking over her shoulder. She sways her hips and notices the band, SAM in particular. He is hard to miss, being the only fellow who doesn’t have his eyes all over her.
SAM plays his drums, missing beats and throwing off the rhythm.
HANNAH marches further across the stage, opening her cover again to reveal her chest. She keeps her eyes glued to SAM, trying to get move into his line of sight. SAM is in his own world, tapping out an unremarkable rhythm.
After a couple of passes, HANNAH is about to give up any hope of capturing his attention, when SAM rears back and lets out a truly graceless sneeze. The jerk of his head sends his gaze her way. Their eyes lock for a second.
SAM’s beat picks up, he turns away, unsure of what has just happened. HANNAH’s eyes remain on him. There is now a glimmer, a change in her countenance. Her moves become softer, less strident.
SAM taps out a few flourishes on his drums, and gives a shy look HANNAH’s way to see if perhaps she has noticed. As his beat becomes more playful, she throws her shoulders back, smiling down at him.
The audiences hollering and whooting has died down.
The song comes to a slow end and the men in the crowd applaud here and there. HANNAH extends a delicate bow, giving the same cold stare as before to the audience, but softening when she reaches SAM’s stare.
He holds his drumstick in his hands, watching her go. A beat. He looks at his drums and then to the exit where she left. SAM’s face clouds with uncertainty.
Lights fade as we hear ART pounding onto the stage.)
ART
Wasn’t that beautiful, fellas! Let’s give it up for RED HOT HANNAH!
(Applause. SAM remains at his drums. Lights fade.)
