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As the hostess had begun to close the door when the pessimist sat down, a pale, delicate hand shot out from the crack of the door from the outside and shoved it open. The hostess fell back in surprise as a woman not too far off in appearance from herself came through the door and slammed it behind her with a kick of a heel-clad foot. 

From her modern mary janes, upwards to her visible stockings and the scandalous hint of thigh before being covered by the bottom of the fringe of her cream colored, sparkling dress.... From her generous cleavage, exposed arms, short hair decorated by a matching cap, bold make-up and long, glamorous string of pearls, it was clear that this was a woman of decade. Her dark, moody pout gave way to a hollywood grin to the hostess, who also in turn perked up. As the young woman that had made her appearance took in the sight of the hostess, she lit up like Christmas and placed her index finger to the side of her lips.

[color=springgreen]"Your attire is simply the bee's knees, darling. It's nice to meet a woman who's unafraid of showing off the gams like me."[/color] Her voice was thick with an accent that screamed old hollywood--or in this case, new hollywood--and gave her an air of confidence unseen in women of previous decades. The hostess chuckled, nodding in agreement, but was unable to form a response before the newcomer held up her ticket with the words boldly exclaiming upon it: [i]Mr. Jig's Speakeasy: A Reality Extravaganza.[/i] [color=springgreen]"This the juice joint?"[/color]

"As a matter of fact, it is!" The Hostess hastily responded, "May I offer you wine while you wait?"

[color=springgreen]"Thank's Janey, but I prefer hooch over that baloney."[/color] At last, the young woman's eyes scanned the room, turning away from both the hostess and the conversation. There were two men and one, unassuming older woman. She sauntered to the bar and pulled up a seat in the corner two spots away from the man in the pinstripe suit. She crossed her legs and pulled out a long handled smoking instrument that bore a single cigarette at the end. The dark haired young woman fished around in her pockets for a moment before her lips turned to a pout and she looked to the man nearest her. She leaned forward over the counter towards him, resting her elbow on the bar with the instrument angled just a few inches from her lips as she smiled at him. [color=springgreen]"Hey bimbo, got a light?"[/color]