8:39 p.m. - Sunday, Aug. 08, 2010
The Noble Experiment
Mabel and Louise met at the local bank where they both worked as tellers. They had a lot in common. They had both gone to college and were proud of their status as professional women. Educated, independent ladies who whole-heartedly supported women's suffrage. They were both members of the League of Women Voters and couldn't be bothered to waste time waiting for a man to give them permission to have a good time.
Most Saturday nights they frequented a local dive called the Blind Pig. No one much cared for prohibition in their small town and as long as the patrons remembered to speak easy, the cops left them alone. Mabel usually ordered a sweet martini in a sugar-rimmed glass while Louise enjoyed her gin and bitters without the frills.
Once a year, their small town is invaded by musicians and gypsies from all around the world for a week-long musical extravaganza. While the girls both enjoy a good time, the music festival is quite an annoyance to certain local vendors whose routine is disrupted by strolling bands and mobile food carts. On this particular Saturday night, Mabel and Louise were all set to indulge in their traditional spirits at the Blind Pig, when to their surprise, they found the place dark.
"Gone on Vacation" a sign in the window announced.
Although the girls were disappointed, they realized the necessity of keeping a low profile with all these strangers roaming about. Louise suggested enjoying the music on Main Street, but Mabel had another idea. There was a place she had heard of located on the Southside. A "bookstore." Louise was intrigued. A secret jazz club that serviced only the most notable clientele? She couldn't believe it. Jazz? This wasn't New York City. This wasn't Chicago. But Mabel insisted.
The girls made their way over to the Southside and found the cobbestoned street Mabel had heard about through gossiping high-class account holders at the bank. They held onto each other's arms as they made their way up the narrow ally, hugged on either side by old brick buildings with darkened windows. Suddenly, they happened upon the door. A single door, labeled in white paint . . ."The Bookstore."
The girls held their breath as they pulled open the door, and inside they saw . . .a bookstore. They entered the small room lined with shelves and shelves of books for sale. In the corner was a lady sitting on a stool behind her cash register.
"Hello ladies, are you looking for something in particular?"
"Yes, we . . ." Louise stammered. They what? They were looking for illegal substances to imbibe?
"Is this your first time here?"
"Yes," Mabel jumped in . . ."We heard you might be . . .open?"
"Of course! Why don't you follow me right this way?"
And the innocent-appearing lady in her demure black dress and politely coiffed hair pulled aside the long velvet curtain behind the register to reveal a sinfully delicious scene the likes of which Mabel and Louise had never before seen!
Candles burned on tables around which sat ladies and gents dressed in their lovliest frocks. There were bottles of the most exotic liqueurs lining the shelves. And in the corner, to their surprise and delight . . .was a real live band just starting to play.
Mabel ordered a Polish vodka mixed with an elderflower liqueur, lemon juice and orange zest. She also had the waiter bring a bowl of chickpea popcorn on which to snack.
Louise ordered a rye whiskey with sweet vermouth. She also indulged in a plate of toast spread with fig jam and a pungent bleu cheese.
The band began to play the hottest jazz the girls could dare to hear. Mabel and Louise fell silent as the music went on. Louise thought it would be ironic to actually read a book. Mabel closed her eyes and listened to the trumpet wail and the singer croon.
Mabel hadn't had such a delicious evening since her college days. Louise felt much the same.
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