<div align="center">(http://i132.photobucket.com/albums/q15/doogieporker/Lolas-1.gif)</div><br/><div class="floatright">(http://www.readthesmiths.com/articles/Images/Entertainment/Idol/Katharine.jpg)</div>"One whiskey, neat, comin' right up!"<br/><br/>Lola watched her barman do his thing from the interior balcony that ran around three sides of her saloon, nodding approvingly. Business was good these days.  The reputation that the diminutive woman had been working on for years was now finally paying off.  It was no easy thing for a woman to own her own saloon out here in the west.  And although most of her patrons thought highly of her and her girls, there was certainly a proportion of her customers who would take advantage of a woman without thinking twice about it.  She'd learned the hard way to trust nothing and no one, except herself.  It made for a rather lonely existence at times, but she took solace in the little 'family' that she had here.  Most of her girls would have wound up as whores, or worse, had she not taken them in, schooled them, and given them jobs in the saloon.<br/><br/>And they all learned their lessons well.<em>Lola's</em>was well renowned for having not just the best whiskey in town, but the best saloon girls as well.  They were well groomed, well dressed, and well read.  Lola insisted on this.  Her patrons were not the usual low lifes that haunted most of the other establishments in town.  They came here not just for the drinking and the attention from pretty girls, but for conversation as well.  Many a business deal had been brokered in the plush booths that nestled around the walls of the dance floor.  And if those walls could talk!  Well...there'd be more than one scandal in town.  That's not to say that<em>Lola's</em>was only for the toffee noses, however.  Everyone was welcome, as long as they behaved themselves, and as far as Lola had always been concerned, everyone was equal once they stepped through her door.  The money of a miner was as good as the money of an alderman.  And surprisingly, his manners were often better.<br/><br/>A familiar sashay caught the brunette's eye.  She smiled as Layla, one of the newer girls, worked the room.  Although still not what could be considered 'experienced' in the industry, Layla was a fast learner, and was quickly becoming one of her most popular girls. Tall, with long light brown hair and the most amazing blue eyes, her dance card was full to the brim most nights, and it was a rare occasion that she couldn't get the gentlemen to spend more at the bar than they likely intended to.  Or to return the next night to do the same.<br/><br/>Deciding that it was time she put in her nightly appearance, Lola smoothed her red satin gown, flicked her long brown curls over her shoulder, and descended regally down the staircase to the bustling bar below.  Spontaneous applause broke out, as was usual, and calls of "Lola!" from a number of her regular customers had the corners of her crimson lips curling upwards.  Slowly making her way through the crowd, she smiled and laughed, and stoked ego's as she went.  Making her customers think that they were the most important person in the world was the best way to loosen their purse strings, and Lola had a gift for making each and every one of them feel special.<br/><br/>Reaching the bar at last, she climbed a top it, enlisting the help of two of her regulars to do so.  Every face turned in her direction, expectation filling the room.  A quick nod to her pianist, and she burst into a rendition of<em>Clementine</em>, which had everyone singing along by the second verse.  It was a nightly tradition, and they loved it.  The piano was completely drowned out as every voice in the bar joined in the singalong, the noise only exceeded by the enthusiastic clapping as the song came to an end.  Shushing the ensuing hooting and whistling, Lola smiled around the room at the people who kept her business alive.<br/><br/>"The next round is on me!" she declared loudly.<br/><br/>It was another nightly tradition that was always met with loud cheering, and tonight was no different.  Hopping down from the bar, Lola worked the room, politely declining the many drinks that were offered her.  It was what kept many of them coming back....the hope that perhaps one day, Miss Lola would accept<strong>their</strong>offer of a drink.