2008-03-29: The Singer Is Brill

Starring:

Joule_icon.gif Lee_icon.gif Quinn_icon.gif

Summary: Joule pops in to hear a singer and possibly make a new connection. Lee drops in for a bite. Quinn is elegant.

Date It Happened: March 29, 2008

The Singer is Brill


Imago

It is early evening on a Sunday. The joint is currently not jumping, but there is a decent group of mostly families enjoying the full restaurant, ambience, and the orchestra. There is a placard by the stage announcing the current headliner, along with a picture: 'Quinn Lyons'. The person resembling that picture, however, isn't due on the stage for a few more hours and is currently at the bar with a plate of food, and a drink, chatting with the bartender.

That headliner? That's who Joule's come to see. She's got her clubbing clothes on. Which in late March in New York consist of a Little Black Dress (tm), black seamback stockings, black thigh-high boots, a black leather jacket, matching leather gloves, and a bright green scarf in deference to it being technically spring for a bit over a week now. A camera bag, modest in size, hangs from her shoulder, and sways with her gait. She gives the club a quick once-over, and heads to the bar for a bite herself, since it seems the show doesn't start for a bit. "Menu, luv?" she asks the bartender. "Cheers."

The bartender is efficient, and friendly. Good qualities in that job. He hands over a menu with a smile, and he says, "We have a glazed salmon special, and the soup is a real French Onion. Want anything to drink, to start?" Quinn glances over as she notices the new arrival, giving a cheerful smile. Not the type to be nasty to potential fans, after all. "Evening." she drawls, with a nod.

"Ooh, yes, thanks," Joule tells the bartender. "Get me a Malibu on the rocks, would you?" She nods in thanks to his mention of the specials, but turns to greet Quinn before deciding on what to eat. "Oh, hullo there. You're either Quinn or her twin," quips the photographer with a half-quirked grin.

The bartender sets about his work, and the drink is delivered quickly. Quinn breaks into a grin at the comment and says, with some humor. "Well, given what she does, I guess I could be just impersonating her. I wonder what happens when you impersonate an impersonator?"

"High comedy," Joule replies without missing a beat. "Victor Victoria, yet." She slams the coconut rum, then frowns at the menu thoughtfully. "I'll start with the bruschetta, and give me a mo to think over what else, hm?" she asks the bartender.

There's a nod and the order is delivered to the kitchen. Quinn oohs, 'I LOVE that play.' she offers. 'Well, like that's a surprise. So, first time to the club?' always a good idea to chat with the customers.

"This one, yeah," Joule confirms. "Got a tip the singer was brill, and thought the singer —" Joule inclines her head at Quinn, "Might want a shoot for the publicity. I know someone who could do a proper writeup on your show, even."

Quinn hmms, thoughtfully, 'Well, publicity, especially good press, is something to be desired.' she admits, 'I guess I'll have to be on my toes, tonight. Do you have any performers you like in particular? Not that I can do EVERYONE, just as a warning.'

"Excellent. I look forward to seeing you pull off Divine Ms. M, then," she tells the other woman. Whatever she'd planned to say next is subsumed in a squeal of delight at the sight of the bruschetta. "Ooh, just perfect!" she tells the bartender. "Let me think on if I need aught else, a'ight?"

The barkeep says, 'Sure thing, ma'am.' with a nod, and goes to serve the other customers. Quinn mmms, 'That's a good song, too.' she chuckles. 'I think it'll fit right in. Give a good excuse to give the brass a workout.'

Lee enters, having been notified by Joule's text message that she was here. He is talking on his cellphone to someone: "But we can't just chalk up the fact that Eloa doesn't know she's with Satan to the fact that she is in love, we can't overlook the fact that women in Vigny are portrayed as being - well, not stupid exactly, but innocents to the point where they don't see what's right in front of their faces. What? Look, you're breaking up, I have to go." He hangs up, peers around, espies Joule, and his face lights up with a grin. He approaches.

"Oh, you've got a band, then?" Joule asks. "What's a normal night like for you? And do you do costume changes?" She's pulled out a regular PDA — as opposed to the hipster one Lee uses. She hasn't seen him yet. She's glancing this way and that around the club, setting up shots as she asks questions.

Quinn mms as she says, "Well, it changes up from night to night, since I usually do a few requests." she says, "But yeah.." with a hint of a grin, 'There's a few costume changes.' said casually.

Lee approaches and puts an arm around Joule from behind, giving one of those other sorts of PDAs right on the ear - the kissing kind. "Hey, are you the new singer here? Didn't I see you on the Interwebsite called the 'You Tubes'?" he teases, then nods to Quinn. "Hey." he says. "I caught the show the other night, good work."

Joule jolts, and there's a second or two when her hands begin to clench toward fists. But Lee's silky voice in her ear after the kiss registers, and she smiles, leaning back to kiss his scruffy chin. "I think we've had quite enough of me singing for a while, luv," she tells him, swiveling on the barstool to kiss him once, soundly. "Share the bruschetta?" Quite a generous serving it was.

Quinn hmms, "You sing, then?" she asks, curiously, but lets the two chat, of course.

"Well, sort of," Joule shrugs. "Kind of like a cross between, oh, y'know, Joan Jett and Tina Turner." Which is to say, loud, enthusiastically, and the attitude makes up where the talent may not quite reach. Joule gives Lee a knowing smile. "Thankfully my reputation does not precede me this time."

Lee says, "Absolutely. I overslept and had to eat on the run." He grins as he noshes on the bruschetta. "She's underestimating herself. I sing when absolutely forced to, mostly I play 1985 synthesizers and whatever junk I can find lying around going-out-of-business sales at electronics repair stores. Oh, sorry…Lee Jones." A quick wipe of the napkin and he offers Quinn his hand.

Quinn takes the hand, shaking it. "Quinn Lyons. Pleasure to meet both of you." she offers with a smile, which becomes a grin. "Well, you know, can always use some sythesizer whenever I do those sorts of impersonations."

"Joule Dahanukar," Joule introduces herself as well, shaking after Quinn has done with Lee. "He's better than he gives himself credit for." Which of course results in Joule turning, mock-concerned, to feel Lee's forehead for a fever. "I'm going to be shooting tonight's show, luv," she tells Lee. "You should bring your keys. Play backup."

Lee says, "Ack, with no rehearsal or time to program anything? It would be flattering that you think I could pull that off if the whole concept weren't so terrifying. That's great! You know," he muses. "I don't know if you do much video - I know you mostly do still stuff? But Quinn did this thing where she had on one costume and makeup job, went back and like two seconds later…it was the fastest quick change any of us had ever seen."

Quinn awws, "Thanks. Its sort of my shtick, you know. People like the singing, the dancing, even the imitation. But its the quick changes that get the big applause."

Joule pokes Lee in the ribs with her elbow. "Who shot your bloody daft 'Represent!' video, hmm?" She shakes her head, casting her eyes to heaven in a 'the-things-I-put-up-with' expression of affectionate frustration. "I don't doubt," she says to Quinn, nodding. "Leaving them wondering how you pulled it off — literally — is always good for a crowd pleaser."

Lee says, "Well, sure but…you mean it wasn't as simple as you made it look? Awk-ward." He nods. "It's a great gimmick to bring 'em in. How long have you been doing the act?"

Quinn hmms, "Well, I've been doing impersonations for years. The quick change?" she pauses, clearing her throat. "That's only come together for the last few months."

"Well, I promise I won't give away your secrets. I'll give you approval over everything before I bring it to print. Sound like a plan?" Joule asks. "Oh — can we split the carbonara?" she asks the bartender, motioning to Lee and herself. "And extra prosciutto, please."

Lee nods. "I won't ask how you do it." he joshes. "It's great that you've got a solid gig, it's getting tougher and tougher these days and I don't see an end in sight. A lot of the smaller clubs are going under."

Quinn nods as she says, "Its stability I'm not really used to. They didn't call us 'gypsies' for nothing." she smiles. "But, anyway, I do need to get with my crew, and prep them for a request."

Joule gives Lee a nod, face twisting into a grimace as he speaks. "It's just terrible is what it is. If you can't fill bloody Meadowlands or Heathrow, nobody cares. It didn't start that way. Guess my country's to blame for that." She picks up the glass of water the barkeep thoughtfully set down for her.

Lee says, "No, no, it's Guiliani's fault. Everything in the city is Guiliani's fault." Now there's a New York native. "Well, hopefully this'll open the door to some online stuff for you, I think that's probably where things are headed next. You can tell because all the bad guys are on the Internet in third-rate TV shows and movies."

Quinn pushes back her seat. She smiles at the two. "Thanks for a great idea for a performance." to Joule. "Now.." she glances at her watch, "I have to get ready."

Lee waves. "Break a leg, nice to meet you!" He continues to nosh with Joule a little while.

"Good getting a chance to tongue wag with you. I'll have my partner, Sierra, drop in to say cheers, and see about interviewing you. Get you a bit of ink, hmm?" Joule tips an imaginary hat to the performer, and settles into Lee's embrace, ready for the performance.

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