Leslie Ann was wearing a long skirt that almost touched the floor.
“I understand you don’t much care for modern music,” said Miss Langley.
Leslie Ann shrugged. “I like it okay.”
She sang “Anything Goes” by Cole Porter.
“In olden days a glimpse of stocking
was looked on as something shocking …”
She raised her skirt just a little bit, revealing a glimpse of her stocking.
“Now heaven knows,
anything goes!”
She twirled and kicked her leg up high, revealing a lot more.
Gary smiled as he watched her. He had always thought he didn’t like music, but he liked watching and listening to Leslie Ann. She really seemed to put her heart and soul into it as she belted out the words.
“Good authors too, who once knew better
words,
now only use four-letter words,
writing prose.
Anything goes!”
She did one other song, “You’re the Top,” and then returned to the side of the stage, her face red and glowing.
“That was really good,” Gary told her.
“You’re sweet,” she said.
Julie Ro
se was not the least bit nervous.
“I understand you want to be a poet but you also want to make money,” said Miss Langley.
“Well, I don’t want to starve or anything,” said Julie. “All you ever hear about are starving poets. I’m going to go to law school, and then I want to be on the Supreme Court. But instead of just stating my court decisions, I plan to recite them in verse.”
“That would be a refreshing approach,” Miss Langley said. “We could probably use a few good poets on the Supreme Court.”
Several people applauded.
“Give me a break,” murmured Fred Furst.
Julie recited some of her poetry.
Gary understood poetry even less than music. He tried again to focus on his own act. He was afraid he might have practiced too much. Comedy was supposed to be spontaneous.
It wasn’t too late to quit. Not really.
The audience clapped loudly for Julie as she returned to her seat.