Goldie looked at her scratched and swollen face in the cracked mirror in the small bathroom.
"Oh my God, Goldie, who did this to you".. It was Kat.
"I dont know actually.. I'm a little embarrased. She ran her hands up and down her arms as if she had a chill. Kat bent her head to listen to Goldie's whispers. She felt Goldie's hot breath in her ear. "I was so gone, i dont have any idea what he looked like...and the ting is, that wasnt enugh liquor for me to pass out like that, not like that."
"So you think someone put somthin in you drind den girl?"
"Yeah, thats what im saying"
"Do you rememba where you was"?
"No, all i remember is it was a white bedroom, chilly.. some wood" Goldie was speaking slowly," the wood was white too the wood on the floor, It was on the wall ,like wasinscotting, do youknow what i mean" I dont want to report tis, i dont want to bring attention, My family would be embarrased.
"I i ,um don think mike would want cha to ,um, anyway," Kat's gun snapped as she chewed, it snapped over and over again
"I know, i figured, who knows , you know, i dont want to get picked up on prostitution charges, you know, they change it around on you, the cops do." Goldie was shivering, "do ya want me to take you home?", kat asked.
"No Way, I cant let my mom see me like this, wait I remember something about the statue of liberty. I did drink alot, but, shit , I dont remember a face. Kat it's terrible.. no face"
Kat came back with a tumbler of scotch and served it up to Goldie. "This is a present from Terri." Terri was the bartender. Goldie took the glass, forcing the burning liquid down her throat. "This happpened to me once before Kat. The knight i went to the statue of liberty".
She found herself with roland. He was a gentle black man, waiting for her when she got off the stage, he bought her a beer, she wanted a beautiful bloody mary. With Jimi Hendrix floating in the background and smoke from the cigarettes swerling towards the ceiling their bodies entwined and they made passionate love until they became cream.. 'Heres your beer"... So.. any way where was I.. I think its time for ya ta go.."
"Yes " the gray haired woman rose from the bar stool. she probably would have looked at the stage wistfully and melencholy would set in. a past of a live that ever echoes. Mike offered her one of the booths to lie down. It was cold out. she knew he would let her sleep here for a while. She went back to sweet life in her sleep.