LordPeter List Literary Contest

The lounge at the Resplendent is not a place I wish to visit often, because the owner of the Resplendent does not, as a rule, serve scotch to a party unless the party is a customer and willing to pay for this privilege. I was in the lounge at the Resplendent on this night because, Dave the Dude had been heard to say that if he had occasion to see me at Mindy's or the Hot Box he might be forced to take a shot or two at me with the revolver he is known to carry for just this purpose. Dave the Dude is not as a rule such an excitable fellow, but Feet Samuels had been overheard saying that maybe I had been taking two or three peeks at Miss Billy Perry which is a doll Dave the Dude is especially fond of at this time and while Dave may stand for the first peek, figuring it is a mistake, it is a sure thing that he will get sored up at the second peek.

Now at one end of the lounge there is a band playing the kind of music that parties from the East Side or perhaps New Jersey are fond of hearing. Personally I do not like this kind of music because it is not the kind of music that someone with a fine baritone such as mine can sing to when he is feeling in the mood. Anyway, the owner of the Resplendent does not encourage folks to sing along with his band, even if they have a fine baritone, and will invite them to take their business to some other place if they seem to be so inclined. There is a couple of paid dancers out on the dance floor twirling around in such a fashion as to make more than one doll get dreamy eyed and look at their guy like he might have been a sure thing at Belmont but had gone lame. This is, to my mind, an unfair thing for the Resplendent to do because how is a guy supposed to ask his doll to trip the light fantastic if he knows she is going to be thinking he is not quite as light on his feet as others they have seen this evening.

The guy who is dancing is called Antoine, but if this is his square name or not is unkown to me. He is a frog faced Frenchman which is considered a fine jest by those of the mob who have had occasion to speak with him. What he thinks of this fine jest is unkown because he always answers in French, which it seems to be the custom of French people to speak French no matter where they are, even away up by Columbus Circle. The doll he is dancing with is wearing a dress that is of such a color as to not mix well with the kind of scotch that is served at the Resplendent.

Some of the tables around the dance floor have couples that are at that stage where they sit in corners and hold hands. It is even possible that one or two of the dolls are married to the guy she is sitting with, but I do not ask any questions, because when a guy goes around asking questions in this town people may get the idea he is such a guy as wishes to find things out. The dolls are wearing dresses and acting coy in such a manner as to make them seem like little girls, or perhaps like the girl that married dear old dad, but how a guy can get all heated up over them is more than I can see because from where I sit they are not perhaps so dainty. In fact, they are good rangy welterweights. But then you never can tell what will make a guy stupid over a doll and must figure that if a guy has the wherewithall to buy scotch at the Resplendent then he is such a guy as to know the rules before he takes the dice.

-- Paul Alexis Goldschmidt
One of the professional dancing-partners in the lounge here -- you know the sort.

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