The swinging doors shut out the city and served to isolate this tiny world of fantasy. On the floor dancers were swaying and shuffling, obedient to the musical commands from the band.
I edged my way through the crowd on the sidelines towards the bar. A friendly hand grasped my shoulder and I turned to confront my Tune Town buddy, Al Ross.
"Over here, I've got a table," he said and led me to a little chrome mushroom he had captured. Al ordered me a beer while I looked about to get my bearings. The little blond seated alone on the long settee looked appetizing and lonely. I made a mental note and gave my attention to my host. We exchanged the usual small talk. I asked, "how was the insurance business?" and in response to Al's polite inquiry, told him about current business conditions at the machine shop.
We turned our eyes and talk towards the milling throng on the edge of the dance floor. The stags were stalking to and fro on their ageless quest while the girls mostly stood or sat in place, coolly returning the furtive glances of the hunters.
"The dopes, why are they knocking themselves out? They spend time, energy and money seeking the company of some lecherous female only to discover they've been defrauded. It they only knew it, the fellows that strike out are the lucky ones."
"Do I detect a somber overtone in your voice?" I queried. The blond on the settee met my glance and I lost the first few words of Al's reply.
"...at least be honest about it. It takes no detective to understand what the fellows are after. But look at those treacherous females. They pretend to be virtue personified yet who know what lusts are hidden behind the facade of those innocent seeming faces."
"A good point," I agreed, "but are you going to allow your philosophy to rule your behavior or will you go on enjoying these disgusting pleasures of the flesh?"
Al fixed me with his bloodshot eyes. "I'm through," he said with dignity. "I intend to give up this useless carousing and devote my time to some worthwhile pursuits."
In spite of myself, an unmanly tear escaped and rolled down my cheek. It was obvious that I had the inspiring opportunity of witnessing the rebirth of a man. Gone was Al Ross the sinner and in his place was a better cleaner man who was clearly resolved to live by directive of his new-found philosophy.
The blond looked over again, a frank invitation in her glance. I coldly looked away. Al was right. I, too, would stifle the beast within and live a worthwhile life.
"Be right back," I told Al and treaded my way to the men's room. I looked with hostility and contempt at the men in the smoke filled room. "just a few moments ao I was one of them," I thought. "Now we are separated by an immeasurable chasm."
I washed my hands and made my way back to the small island where sat al, my true friend. The orchestra had just started a new set, and haunting strains of "Green Eyes" lured the couples back to the floor. Naturally I resisted the siren call of the melody and virtuously seated myself at the table. Al Ross was gone but two fresh beers had been served. I poured some into my glass and awaited the return of the new Al. The glass emptied and I refilled. Still no Al.
"It's very boring being virtuous," I speculated, and stole a look at the settee. The blond had vanished. "Guess one of the hunters spotted her."
It became apparent that my friend had left, so I decided to do the same. The crowd had thinned out and I had less difficulty making my way to the swinging doors. A familiar voice hailed me. I was quite startled to look up in time to spot Al Ross and the settee blond streamed by inside a yellow cab.
