Category: 100 Word Stories

#082 I Don’t Care (In the Good Old Summertime, 1949)

“Sam here? Send him my way would ya.” Pin stripe suit. Clean shaven. Walkin’ money. “And a martini.”

There’s only one Sam I know and she ain’t no fella. I had a feelin’ Mr. Pin Stripe would be in for a surprise.

She came up behind me and with her hands over my eyes whispered in my ear, “guess who?” She smelled of bourbon and peaches. Two of my favorite things.

“Watch out with that one, Sam. He thinks you’re a fella.”

“I wish!” She walked away, and I admired the way she wore a man’s suit better than me.

#081 What a Swell Party This Is (High Society, 1956)

“She’s checking you out, Billy. You should ask for her number.” A couple of boys coming of age. My guess? It’s Billy’s birthday and his so called friends are ready to make him a man.

Billy shakes his head. Smart kid. His friends? Not so much. One of them gets Cass’s attention then he reaches over to pinch her bottom before she can back away.

She grabs his drink and throws it in his face.

“Trouble, Cass?” I ask as she places her tray on my piano.

“Nothin’ you can’t handle, suga,” she answers with a smile and a wink.

#080 Bosom Buddies (Mame, 1974)

“Dinner at five. Evening news at six while reading the paper till sunset, then straight to bed,” Donna Jones said. Two ladies sit huddled together, nursing drinks so long the ice melted.

“No…” Sheryl Tiegs, her best friend of fourteen years, makes the universal sign with her hand for ‘you know…’ and Donna shakes her head.

“Never on a weeknight.”

“Same!” They both giggle and clink glasses.

“I’ll sneak out to your place and leave the backdoor open. Kitchen knife on the counter for you.”

“Same!” They snort simultaneously. The best laid plans decided over drinks happen every day here.

#079 My Baby Loves Me (Viva Las Vegas, 1964)

I wish I could dance. But I’ve got two left feet. Ever since I was born my momma always said I would be a better musician than a singer or dancer. My momma was always right and a great judge of character. It’s a gift she passed on to me.

For instance, I could tell by the way Hank wasn’t tending bar that his sister, Harper, was expected at any moment. She knew just how to push his buttons. Asking for money or alcohol. 

Then, she walked in on the arm of some man and immediately hit the dance floor.

#078 Paper Doll (Two Girls and a Sailer, 1942)

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Nouveau is proud to present, Ms. L—”

“Watch out, here comes a Darkie,” a man formerly known as Brat (because he always orders bratwurst whenever he comes to the club), decides to whisper under his breath. Except, it was loud enough for everyone to hear.

I glanced over at Vinny who nodded to a couple of gentlemen he employs to deal with men like Brat, who, before he could protest his innocence was gone. Leaving behind the muffled cries of a forgotten man.

The lights went down, one spotlight, as a heavenly voice began to sing.

#077 Good Morning (Singin’ in the Rain, 1952)

I work all hours, unlike my boss, Vinny. I have to, what with the club always open. Take the mornin’ crowd, for instance. Some just want their coffee and a little entertainment. So, we provide the best that money can’t buy.

I prefer the mornin’s because it’s when Lola comes in to ask if there’s any news. See, her beau gambled away their life savings, even borrowed some from the house, that’s when his luck ran out. Five years later and she’s still lookin’ for him here.

Vinny stopped lookin’ years ago. I just haven’t the heart to tell her.

#076 Get Happy (Summer Stock, 1950)

“Vinny here?” The bar teemed with customers. Some new. Some old. All with a past and a story. The bartender nodded towards the other end of the main floor. Our unlucky man, Mr. James Horner, owes Vinny, my boss, some money. And when you owe Vinny money, you want to make sure you pay him, or else.

Horner ordered his usual drink and knocked it back before squaring his shoulders and weaving through the throng of tables. I could tell by his gait that his pockets were empty. 

Me? I much rather listen to the lovely lady singing on stage.

#075 Me and Mrs. Jones

According to Harry, the owner of the Salty Shack in the sleazy side of town, my wife’s been meeting her lover here multiple times a week. “Another late night at the office, dear.” Her cold texts. What a fool I’ve been!

We have an arrangement, Harry and I. Whenever they arrive he calls me and I watch them from across the street. Ten times he’s called and ten time I’ve done nothing about it. But tonight will be different. 

Tonight I’m going to join them and let them squirm as I eat their pie with a grin on my face.

#074 Lady is a Tramp

“Gentlemen, if I can draw your attention to the stage. The show you’ve all been waiting for is about to begin.”

Heavy purple curtains part down the middle and a spotlight comes on from above to illuminate Lady Liv for her one and only performance of the night. She smiles and the men are captivated. Frozen in time and space as she sings just for them.

Suddenly, black hooded figures work their way through the tables, unnoticed, lifting wallets and jewelry. Leaving empty pockets and souls in their wake.

Lady Liv stops singing. The spot light goes out. Curtains close.

#073 River

Maybe it was the lack of a case that made me vulnerable to whoever entered my office. Or maybe it was the way her red lipstick matched her auburn hair peeking through her black head scarf. 

She didn’t say much. Women like her never do. They let their eyes do the talking. And her eyes told me she was in trouble. I didn’t think I was the man for her till she kissed me into submission.

I didn’t catch her name, just that her life was in danger and I had to kill him.

It was a damn good kiss…