choose you?”
“Guess they were stuck. I’m the only one in the chorus who can sing. And besides, they usually don’t hire real understudies until the show comes in. I’m just a standby job for the tour.”
“Do you sing well, Neely?”
“Huh? Oh, I sing like I dance. Though I must say I get the steps a lot quicker than most of those chorus girls.” She did a high kick and narrowly missed a lamp. “Now all I need is a boyfriend and I’ll be set.”
“Is there anyone attractive in the show?”
“Are you kidding? A musical is like a sexual desert—unless you’re a fag. Dickie is having a ball with all those chorus boys—it’s like smorgasbord. The leading man is straight—handsome, too—but he has a wife who looks like his mother, and she sits around and watches him every second. The guy who plays opposite Terry King is bald without his rug. The only normal man is the old lech who plays Helen’s father. He’s sixty-five if he’s a day, but he’s always trying to grab a feel. But one of the girls in the chorus has a boyfriend who’s got a friend named Mel Harris. He’s a press agent, and she’s going to arrange for me to double-date with them. I hope something comes out of it. . . . It’d be awful not to have a date on my own opening night. Are you still going to the New York opening with George Bellows?”
“Of course not. I’m . . . well. . . I’m engaged to Allen.”
“Then lemme buy you a pair of seats for the opening. It’ll be my present to you.”
“Don’t you get seats free?”
“Are you kidding? No one does, not even Helen Lawson. But she gets to buy four house seats every night, and someone told me when a show is a hit she sells them to a scalper and makes a fortune.”
“But Neely, I couldn’t let you buy my seats . . . Allen will get them. And Neely, if the Mel thing doesn’t work out, we’ll take you out after your opening.”
Neely had her date with Mel Harris the following week. He was divine, she insisted. He had taken her to Toots Shor’s and told her all about himself. He was twenty-six, had been graduated from New York University, was a press agent but one day hoped to be a producer. He lived in a small midtown hotel and went to Brooklyn every Friday night to have dinner with his family.
“You see, Jewish men are very family conscious,” Neely explained.
“Do you really like him?” Anne asked.
“I love him!”
“Neely, you’ve only had one date. How can you be in love?”
“Look who’s talking. All you had was one lunch with Lyon Burke.”
“Neely! There’s nothing between Lyon Burke and me. I don’t even think about him. In fact, I’m getting quite fond of Allen.”
“Well, I know I love Mel. He’s beautiful. Not beautiful like Lyon, but great.”
“What does he look like?”
Neely shrugged. “Maybe a little like Georgie Jessel, but to me he’s gorgeous. And he didn’t try to get fresh, either. Even when I lied and said I was twenty. I was afraid seventeen would scare him off.”
Neely cocked her head toward the open door. They were sitting in Anne’s room, and the telephone was downstairs in front of Neely’s room. It was both a convenience and a hazard. She was constantly forced to take messages for everyone in the house.
“This time it’s for me,” she shrieked as she heard the tinny ring.
Five minutes later she bounded back, breathlessly triumphant. “It was him! He’s taking me to the Martinique tonight. He handles some singer there.”
“He must do very well,” Anne said.
“No, he only makes a hundred a week. He works for Irving Steiner and Irving handles about twelve big accounts. But soon he’s going out on his own, though he’s trying to get connected with radio. You know, Jewish men make marvelous husbands.”
“So I’ve heard. But how do they feel about Irish girls?”
Neely knit her brows. “Look, I can always tell him I’m part Jewish. That I took the O’Hara as a stage name.”
“Neely, you’d
“Guess they were stuck. I’m the only one in the chorus who can sing. And besides, they usually don’t hire real understudies until the show comes in. I’m just a standby job for the tour.”
“Do you sing well, Neely?”
“Huh? Oh, I sing like I dance. Though I must say I get the steps a lot quicker than most of those chorus girls.” She did a high kick and narrowly missed a lamp. “Now all I need is a boyfriend and I’ll be set.”
“Is there anyone attractive in the show?”
“Are you kidding? A musical is like a sexual desert—unless you’re a fag. Dickie is having a ball with all those chorus boys—it’s like smorgasbord. The leading man is straight—handsome, too—but he has a wife who looks like his mother, and she sits around and watches him every second. The guy who plays opposite Terry King is bald without his rug. The only normal man is the old lech who plays Helen’s father. He’s sixty-five if he’s a day, but he’s always trying to grab a feel. But one of the girls in the chorus has a boyfriend who’s got a friend named Mel Harris. He’s a press agent, and she’s going to arrange for me to double-date with them. I hope something comes out of it. . . . It’d be awful not to have a date on my own opening night. Are you still going to the New York opening with George Bellows?”
“Of course not. I’m . . . well. . . I’m engaged to Allen.”
“Then lemme buy you a pair of seats for the opening. It’ll be my present to you.”
“Don’t you get seats free?”
“Are you kidding? No one does, not even Helen Lawson. But she gets to buy four house seats every night, and someone told me when a show is a hit she sells them to a scalper and makes a fortune.”
“But Neely, I couldn’t let you buy my seats . . . Allen will get them. And Neely, if the Mel thing doesn’t work out, we’ll take you out after your opening.”
Neely had her date with Mel Harris the following week. He was divine, she insisted. He had taken her to Toots Shor’s and told her all about himself. He was twenty-six, had been graduated from New York University, was a press agent but one day hoped to be a producer. He lived in a small midtown hotel and went to Brooklyn every Friday night to have dinner with his family.
“You see, Jewish men are very family conscious,” Neely explained.
“Do you really like him?” Anne asked.
“I love him!”
“Neely, you’ve only had one date. How can you be in love?”
“Look who’s talking. All you had was one lunch with Lyon Burke.”
“Neely! There’s nothing between Lyon Burke and me. I don’t even think about him. In fact, I’m getting quite fond of Allen.”
“Well, I know I love Mel. He’s beautiful. Not beautiful like Lyon, but great.”
“What does he look like?”
Neely shrugged. “Maybe a little like Georgie Jessel, but to me he’s gorgeous. And he didn’t try to get fresh, either. Even when I lied and said I was twenty. I was afraid seventeen would scare him off.”
Neely cocked her head toward the open door. They were sitting in Anne’s room, and the telephone was downstairs in front of Neely’s room. It was both a convenience and a hazard. She was constantly forced to take messages for everyone in the house.
“This time it’s for me,” she shrieked as she heard the tinny ring.
Five minutes later she bounded back, breathlessly triumphant. “It was him! He’s taking me to the Martinique tonight. He handles some singer there.”
“He must do very well,” Anne said.
“No, he only makes a hundred a week. He works for Irving Steiner and Irving handles about twelve big accounts. But soon he’s going out on his own, though he’s trying to get connected with radio. You know, Jewish men make marvelous husbands.”
“So I’ve heard. But how do they feel about Irish girls?”
Neely knit her brows. “Look, I can always tell him I’m part Jewish. That I took the O’Hara as a stage name.”
“Neely, you’d
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