Ms. Golightly

The club was packed. The punters bodies moving both to the musical beat and to the flow of the bodies around them. The latest Black Eye Peas song "You gotta get that boom boom pow" blared in the club.

Holly was stuck between a large white man in a shirt almost as pale as skin and a short squat man whose over sized shirt was smaller than his portly belly. She squealed aloud as she was smooshed between the two bodies. Her shoulders caved in and she wondered for the millionth time why exactly she was out at the club. She shoved the short fat man out of her way and attempted to b-line it to the bar. She waited for a half an hour to get a watered down drink all the while cursing the masculine sex for not doing their duty of procuring her a drink free of charge.

She sipped her watered down rum and coke while the bodies on the dance floor continued to flow with the top 40 hits.

"What are you drinking," a young man asked. He leaned into her, his breath smelled like alcohol.

Holly leaned away from his liquor induced halitosis. "Rum and coke," she replied with a roll of her eyes. The young man rubbed his hands together and then smoothed them down his shirt.

"Want to go out on the dance floor... baby," the last word he uttered slowly and quietly. His eyes rolled over her paving onto her an image that was not her.

"My boyfriend is right over there," Holly pointed with her index figure to a broad shouldered man not far away. Holly's "boyfriend" had her back turned away from the two of them.

"Well don't worry about it I won't tell him," the young man slurred.

"I said no."

"Bitch," the young man said. He walked away. Holly sighed with relief as he made more distance between them. She downed the rest of her drink and ordered another. Ten minutes later she was again sipping on rum and coke but she had moved to a nearby window. The club was at the top floor of a casino, whose name she forgot, in las vegas. From the window she could see the entire strip laid out before her. The landscape glowed with neon light. Las Vegas had become even more glamorous since the recession, the more depressed the economy had become the louder the lights of Las Vegas had seemed.

"Quite a majestic view, its too bad that it will soon be picturesque ruins," a voice next to her said.

"All things fade, sans diamonds and pearls," she replied to the voice. She continued to look forward. Her strapless dress was thin, the club warm, but the view had chilled her. Goose bumps covered her skin.

"So you imagine yourself some a lady of class," the voice said with a wry tone.

"I am a woman of the modern age," Holly replied indignantly. Holly had achieved the American dream and had pulled herself up by the boot straps, or to be more accurate by the high heels. Her feminine charm had led her to a comfortable but boring existence. Her days were routine in that they were always subject to her whims. Her passions had seem to played themselves out though and her whims were less free and more repetitive.

"This modern age where everything that was once lived has now moved away into representation, now what does that mean for a woman such as yourself," the voice replied coyly. The response angered Holly and she turned to address the man's voice, but there was no one there. She shuddered and looked back at the city and its glowing lights.