A Girl Named Peggy

My name is Frankie Mendez. Luck made my life and my luck changed on Feb. 12, 1956. Crawling out of bed with only a few hours of sleep is not my norm. But I had to be ready to start my Sunday Jam sessions at the Showtime Nite Club. Talk about running around like crazy; it was hectic and then some. The doors opened at 4 p.m., and the house band was Johnny’s, the best group I ever had playing at my sessions. Johnny was on piano, Pat on tenor sax, Jimmy on drums and Boogie on bass. Admission was $1—big bucks back then.
After paying the group their fee, about $40 dollars, I kept the rest of the admission money—a little side money for me. The music was the finest and the patrons would pack the place. The dance floor was always jammed.

My buddy Joe would help me out at the door every so often. He was good for business. He was a smooth-looking handsome guy, Italian of course, with impeccable good looks. He always dressed top-notch and knew how to attract the ladies.

The big band era was in its twilight years and while promoting these dances with big bands through my booking agent in Chicago and New York, I noticed the attendance was drastically falling off. This led to my idea of promoting smaller local dances on a weekly basis. Voila, the jam sessions A week earlier, I had asked a friend of mine named Shirley to invite some of her friends. She was a regular attendee, a party girl, and she had a lot of girlfriends. Attendance was slacking off, so I made her an offer she couldn’t refuse.

“Shirley,” I said, “If you bring some girls in next week, you won’t have to pay the $1 admission.” I sure hated to lose that dollar, but what the hell?

 “You got a deal” she said. She left, happily murmuring

“Hey, I get in free next week…whoopee!”        

That was one well-placed buck. A week later, the crowd poured in, each customer handing over their dollar. The music was jamming and the dance floor packed. What a sight!

“Do I get in free now? ” shouted Shirley, barging in to the club.

“Yeah, yeah!” I said, looking over her shoulder. “But where’re the girls?”

 Five of them filed in out of the chilly outdoors.
“O.K, O.K girls,” I said. “One dollar each, Shirley, you’re in free. One dollar, two dollars, three dollars, four dollars—”
My eyes blinked repeatedly. My voiced slightly quivered.

“Hello,” said No. 5.

“Come on girls,” Shirley called out. “Let’s get a table!”

“One dollar please,” I said to No. 5. That big beautiful smile just floored me. Where in the world did she come from? My eyes followed her all the way to the farthest point in the place. Damn! Leave it to Shirley to take her away from me.

 “Frankie! Frankie! FRANKIE!” Joe hollered.

“Oh! Yeah Joe, what’s up?” I answered, still in a daze. “Uh, listen, Joe. Hold on to the money. Watch the door O.K.?”

“Where you going?” Joe asked.

“After that!” I said, pointing to No. 5. As I headed toward the table, with the music toned down to a nice, mellow pace, I felt that once-in-a-lifetime feeling a person gets. I asked for the dance. She looked surprised and, not knowing what to do, she looked at Shirley.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Shirley chirped. I looked back at Shirley with a smile of thanks as we stepped onto the dance floor.
Our first encounter, our first embrace, our first words, almost left me speechless. The song wasn’t long enough. It seemed like only seconds. And the group was going on a break!
 Just my luck, I thought. She said her name was Peggy. That was all I could remember.

$14.95
Papberback, 5.5x8.5
ISBN: 978-159858-480-6
316 pages

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