Over a month had passed, and Muffy had grown a little tired of waiting for the auditions to begin.
At first, the idea that she might have a shot at landing a starring role in one of Radio City Music Hall's outdoor productions had seemed impossibly far-fetched and glamorous. But when the stage manager told her the production was to be "Star Trek on Ice", she knew that this was her destiny! Her triple Lutz was second to none, and she had spent many hours as a child in front of a mirror, practicing some of the most powerful lines in all of literature. Deep inside she was quietly confident that her delivery of "He's dead, Jim" would blow them all away.
The stage manager had found her a place to stay. And what a place it was! A palace! The Leona Palace, in fact. As part of the Mayor's program for "A Cleaner, Safer, Goddammit, a Nicer Noo Yawk City", rooms at "The Leona" were free for any out-of-towner who needed a place to stay.
Thus Muffy found herself living in a suite on the 30th floor, with magnificent Park and Midtown views, and fabulous room service, totally free of charge. Many of the other girls on her floor were also looking for work in the "Show Business", so Muffy was careful keep a reserved distance, and did not discuss her situation or goal with any of them, lest some less talented but ruthless hussy steal the part that was rightfully hers.
There was only one slight drawback to her stay at the Leona: the periodic brief visits from Hizzoner himself, who she found to be energetic but rather selfish. Since these "visits" seemed to be a condition of her continued residence in this paradise, she was happy to endure him. And as the weeks passed, she even began to look forward to his "Erogenous Zoning Committee Meetings", and his cries of "How'm I doin'?" and "It's election night, baby!"
So, once again, after a light breakfast in her room, Muffy put on her Star Trek costume, placed a little dab of "L'Air du Temps" behind her ears, took the elevator down and headed out into the rich, intoxicating air of Midtown Manhattan on an August morning.
It was but a short walk to the rink at Rockefeller Center, but at first Muffy had found it a difficult and humiliating journey. She soon decided that it was more practical to put on her skates at the rink, instead of in her room, and now she carried the blades over her shoulder with a spring in her step. She hummed to herself tunelessly. "This is just such a magical time," she thought, "Anything is possible!"
It was 9 AM, the temperature and relative humidity were both in the 90's, and the air was thick with a splendid sense of well-being and goodwill to all men, that wafted throughout the metropolis like a ripe Pastrami sandwich.
As Muffy made her way through the crowded streets, she began to quietly sing one of her favorite songs, from some old musical, she wasn't sure which one:
"I'm going to make a hill of beans in this crazy town, cause I'm top of the heap, over the hill, if I can fake it here I can fake it anywhere, New York, Nee-yeeew York! (Ooops, was that out loud?)"
Suddenly aware that the crowds had parted and the people were staring and pointing at her, Muffy put her head down and pushed onwards through the throngs of tourists.
Ah, the tourists! Muffy just couldn't get enough of the tourists. After a month in the Leone Palace, Muffy was beginning to consider herself a "local", and had thus taken it upon herself to help as many visitors as she could, with directions and advice, especially where public restrooms were concerned.
These out-of-towners with their pastel T-shirts, baggy shorts and cameras were always laughing and smiling, taking pictures of one another, saying the same phrase over and over. "Yada, yada, yada." Muffy had no idea what it meant. One day a group of boisterous visitors from the mid-west had even stopped her on the corner of 59th Street and asked her to say it for them. When she obliged, they were reduced to helpless laughter. She was at great length able to glean from them that it was from a popular TV show. Muffy resolved to one day buy a TV, watch that show and see what was so funny about this seemingly meaningless phrase.
As she approached Rockefeller Center, Muffy's hopes were high. Perhaps this would at last be the day! When she had first attended the auditions in July, the stage manager had told her that they could only begin once the rink was frozen over. Seeing an incredulous look in the young girl's eyes, he had assured her that gigantic blocks of ice were, as he spoke, floating down the Hudson River all the way from the North Pole. He had told her the story of the ice floes that would break away from huge polar glaciers as soon as the Stanley Cup playoffs were over, and of the Canadian ice-riders who would steer their chilly behemoths down river to the city that never sleeps. A series of huge cables were strung across the Hudson to the New Jersey side, to catch what was left of the ice. They would be slid ashore near West 65th Street, and from there a secret underground ice-railway led to a massive vault under the rink at Rockefeller Center, where the cooling power of the frozen sea water ensured an ideal skating surface, even in summer.
Trembling with anticipation, Muffy leaned over the brass rail at the edge of the rink. Even the golden statue of Prometheus seemed to avert his gaze. Looking down into the open space below street level, her heart sank. The open air rink was still in its summer guise as a restaurant, and the tables and chairs were set out, as they had been every day.
"Darn, another day of waiting, I just hope that guy who wants to play Spock keeps his phaser to himself today, I'm really not in the mood..." she thought to herself.
Suddenly, however, her mood brightened, as she noticed... |
