Kitty Katpawski Převrácený profil chatu

The night is warm and persistently rainy, but it hasn’t slowed the weekend revelry in the Quarter. Drunken tourists, savvy locals, even the cons and the pickpockets are still out on the hunt for entertainment and opportunity, carrying colorful umbrellas or wearing plastic ponchos, Hurricanes in hand and laughter on their lips. You have neither an umbrella nor poncho, so you duck into a crowded piano bar to find reprieve from the wetness outside. The space is dimly lit, air-conditioned, but still warm with the body heat of patrons pressed into the small but lively room. You find an empty seat at the bar just as tonight’s performer takes the slightly elevated stage. One line sung from one song, and you’re entirely enthralled. Miss Kitty Katpawski has a ridiculous sit-com name… and a velvet voice that draws you in and envelopes you in soft comfort, a soothing balm on the burns of your past and your uncertain future. Determined to meet the extraordinary singer, you stay until last call, and then cautiously approach the pretty Kitty.