She was an ananachronism. Despite the modern outfit and sadly hip (in some circles) cat ears she seemed for a moment to be of another time. The microphone helped. It was one of the classic ones that looked like it should be straight out of a Billie Holdiday concert. She was crooning away that over done jazz standard, "Fever" she was doing a passable job of it. Her voice had the dark and smokey quality needed for good jazz. He swirled the boxed wine in his Dixie Cup and sipped at it while attempoting to determine whether he was attracted to her or not. The set up of the room helped as well it was a caberet style afair with small tables incircled by chairs. He sat at one with Katherine and Murry druming his fingers. The night just seemed right for a smoke, He wished faintly that is wasn't banned now. There was something romantic about a smokey club on a Friday night with a drink in ones hand and a pretty girl on stage singing low and soft. Those days where gone though, the romance of the days was replaced with the safety of his own. The openeness. There were three underage kids in the front at a table they weren't the best of theatre-goers but they wouldn't be here if it was a smoking joint. Any responsible mother of the 21st century would let there child die of second hand smoke. You could tell they all had responsible mothers becuase they were all dressed in the most expennisve pre-damage American Eagle jeans and polo tops that money could buy. No responsible mother of the 21st century would allow there children to look like slobs after all. Or at least look like they'd earned there slovenliness with hard work running through fields or hefting bails of straw up into the rough of the barn, The pretty jazz singer finished her song and welcomed her partner to the stage to do a more upbeat modern number, part of the new branch of muscians that catered to moody 15 years olds with a prediliction for the unusual and the vaudvelian. It worked with there niche but he tuned out once the song started. The magic moment of transportation was gone. He was no longer in a jazz club in the 50's. He was back in his own time for better or for worse.
"I'm going to grab another drink" He said and he did.