1923: Up In Smoke

Untitled Story

Dear Reader,

First off, my name is Mae. You will be following a bit of my life, since the most memorable events happened in a few short weeks.

Now, I got to New York in 1920 because I left my home in Jersey, hence the accent. Left my job at a fabric store to live out my big dreams on Broadway. Ha. That was a bust. Don't think you'll make Broadway 'cause your mama says you will. Dreams don't always come true. I sure as hell learned that the hard way.

Also, I would like to take a moment to acknowledge my cussin', drinkin', and compulsive smoking. I ain't gonna apologize because I do it 'cause I wanna and nobody gonna change that. Sucks don' it? Well I ain't gonna conform to these backwards "lady" stereotypes and norms. I am not gonna live my life like a goddamned prim and proper housewife. If you have a problem with that, that's your problem, not mine. I ain't changin' for nobody. Take me or leave me. This is what you're gonna get.

Anyway, you're probably sick of my ranting, so let's move on. I'm at work right now so I can't write no more or Susan might slit my throat.

Sincerely,

Mae

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"Girls, are you ready?" Susan's voice carried through the dimly lit room.

"Um, by ready, do you mean hair half-done, makeup half-done, and a pain in the ass partner currently wearing my dress? Then, yes, I'm totally ready Sus," subtle gangster twang in her voice.

"A lady does not use filler words, curse, or disrespect her elders, Mae Elizabeth."

"Mae! I'm not even wearing your dress! The red one is mine! You get the black one."

"Ramona, this is your first gig. You don't deserve the red one." Mae said between puffs of her Viceroy Cigarette. "The boys like it more."

"Mae, put that out and finish getting ready. A lady should not smoke."

Mae then mocked Susan under her breath. "A lady should not smoke." All but Susan and Amanda erupted in a laughter that was more of a dry cackle since the others were compulsive smokers. Mae definitely smoked the most though, averaging about a pack and a half a day.

"Miss Susan?"

"Yes, Amanda," Glaring at Mae, acknowledging Amanda's poise, and Mae's lack thereof.

"We have approximately twenty minutes before we need to get to the 21 Club, ma'am," she said with a condescending smile directed at Mae. Amanda Betton may have been one of Mae's closest friends, but she always tried to look better than her anyway.

"Don't be a bitch, Amanda." Puff. "Speaking of which," Puff. Mae began shouting across to the bathroom, "Ramona, where the hell is my dress?"

"Mae Elizabeth George! A lady should not curse! Thank the Lord tomorrow is Sunday, you can get your stained soul into a confessional and be absolved of your sins."

Mae then proceeded to puff a large amount of smoke into Susan's general direction. Susan sighed and stomped off to make sure the others were ready.

"Ramona, give me that dress before I strangle you with the goddamned thing," puff, "Good Lord Ramona, you should know by now, the red one is for me, the black one is for you. It's not even your size anyways."

"God will deal with you now, Mae. I give up!" Susan then walked out, beginning to pray quietly to herself.

The troupe was finally ready, and strutted their way to the 21 Club.