A Star named: SHAKES
The distant sounds of jingled keys, loose change, slot machines, and drunken laughter painted the stale skies of Las Vegas. Luring junkies, prostitutes, impersonators, and strangers like a moth to a flame, seeking fun and excitement to escape their meaningless lives. A world Jimmi “Shakes” knew all to well. Jimmi sat in the far back of the dim lite dive. Sitting on a fake brown leather seat with a black cigarette butt, in one hand and a half full dirty brown liquid in the other. Jimmi sat alone humming a BB King song that played over the radio, swaying side to side with the rhythm. Her clothes moved freely on her body so that when she moved. They moved as well, she was dressed in a sequined vintage gold top that showed no shape to her upper body and glittering black bell-bottoms along with gold flip-flops showing off her gold painted toe-nails. As she swayed her body to the rhythm, her drink spilled onto her hand. Opening her eyes, she put the last of her cigarette out into the glass ashtray. Moving her free hand toward the raggedy cream blue bowl filled with chips that sat near the ashtray and placing a few chips into the bowl of quinoa not noticing her spilled drink. She looked up as the bartender a big black bald sullen faced man in a white-t and jeans as he places a napkin over the spilled substance; she smiled at him raising her drink, “Thanks Daaarlin,” in her low husky voice.
In front of the bar two men in their late mid fifties early sixties both orange from sun and age walked in and headed toward the bar. The first one was a stocky fellow in a gray business suit with hair that matched, the other in a wrinkled blue suit, glasses, with a short brown buzz cut. Both men looked around glancing her way for a moment, swiftly turning around as the bartender makes his way to them with two glasses. Jimmie watches them as adrenaline pumps threw her veins. Putting her drink down, Jimmie grabs her small black purse, opens it up taking out the small hand held mirror, and a tube of her special ruby red lipstick. She looks at her self not seeing the sixty-eight year old, broken down, wilting, blond bob wig, wrinkled face woman, but the ambitions blond, small waisted, flawless, b-cup, 25-year-old waiting for success to happen. After applying her lipstick and checking her hair, she stood up, back straight, breast pointed, shoulders squared, she began making her way towards the two men.
Then first man to notice her walking over was the man in blue, his square shaped tented blue glasses fell to the bridge of his nose as he leaned he smirked. Tapping his friend on the shoulder, he nodded his head towards Jimmie. The man in gray turned his attention to Shakes he spoke with a booming loud voicing filling the bar “WELL HELLO YOUNG LADY.”
Jimmie smiled from ear to ear. “Hello Gentleman” she said in her husky voice “May I ask what’s your business here,” giving her best impression of Elizabeth Taylor mysterious stare.
Both men gave a little chuckle the man in blue said in his small nasal voice “We’re in the line of …… producing,” he said moving his drink from side to side carelessly throwing his drink in his mouth.
Jimmie smile widen even more “Its just your luck I ‘ma a singer, you know I almost headlined at The Sands (Casio) once, but it fail threw, they didn’t know what they were missin tho,” she said in matter of fact voice shaking her head.
“Well ma’am, I’m sure they were missin out, but we have to get going, it was nice talkin t…” Snapping her fingers at the bartender,
“get them another shot of what ever there having,” Jimmie said loudly glancing at the bartender, looking back at the men. “On Me of course, put it on my tab.” She said briskly as the bartender walked over with two clear bottles pouring liquid into each glass. “How long yawl have business here, oh I forgot how rude of me, my name is Jimmie but everybody calls me Shakes round here.”
Nodding their heads as she spoke the man in blue spoke first ‘Nice to meet you, ma’am I’m Phil and this is my partner Dale.” Jimmie sat in the chair next to Dale, folding her legs, propping her arms up on wooden counter with a straight back she leaned into dale showing the opening of her cleavage she snapped her fingers twice. The bartender coming over once more giving her a napkin a small glass and pouring the dark liquid she had earlier. The man named Phil reached inside of his jacket revealing a yellow box of candy that said gobstopper. He shook them towards Dale who waved his hand no, and then to Jimmie who held her handout as yellow, green, blue, red dots poured out into her hands she realized Phil was looking at her open cleavage.
Dale stood up finally speaking after being silent for so long “I’M ABOUT TO HIT THE ROAD YOU TWO…. IT WAS NICE MEET YAH MA’AM” with a final note that left no room for Jimmie to interrupt. Phil patted Dale on the back whispering something she couldn’t hear. Dale nodded his head quickly glancing up at Jimmie once more as he left. Jimmie curled her fingers around her drink so tight that her fingers turned purple, “Shit ……I was going to sing for yawl.”
To BE Continued...