First I'll be needin' yer full name, honey. It's for my confidential records. Lord knows none o' the girls actually uses 'em.

Amanda Marie Henderson.

So what do people actually call ya? An' why?

Goldilocks. On account of my blonde hair. And the fact I guess I can be a bit dumb sometimes.

Age an' birthday? Just estimate if ya ain't sure, hon.

September 25th. Ma wasn't good for much, but she remembered to give me an extra nickle for my birthday every year. I'll be 18 next September.

Now you's gonna give me a physical description. Height, build, hair, eyes, the clothes ya wears--everythin' down to the last freckle, ya hear? *gives you a sober look* If one o' my goils goes missin'...well, it pays to be prepared, I always say.

I'm about five foot six or so, I guess. Average build. Blonde. Blue eyes. Small nose. I frown a lot. I've been told I'm pretty, but I dunno. I think I'm kinda plain. I'm pale, and there are almost always dark circles under my eyes. I don't sleep very well.

I know you'll be sellin' papes, but are ya doin' any odder kinda work? If so, I gotta know about it. *gives you a sharp look* Yes, even that.

*flushes dark red* No. Nothing but selling newspapers, these days.

What's yer personality like, dearie? Sweet, grumpy, shy, outgoin', overly fond o' the boys? *smiles* It's all perfectly fine here in Greenwich Village.

I'm quiet, and a little shy. You don't have to worry about me and boys...I stay away from them. I guess I try a little too hard. I'd really like to fit in, but...I guess I'm just not very good at fitting in. Awkward, you might say.

Now, most o' the Village is real keen on the arts. Got any special talents I should know about? If ya sing, dance, act, draw, paint, write, or sweep a stage, I guarantee the goils'll find ya some extra work. *winks* You can tell me about any non-artistic talents while you's at it.

I can pick locks. I mean! No, ah...I can't. Do that. Um...I can sing pretty well. Not like someone in a threatre, but nice enough for parties, or bars, or gatherings and things. And I'm a decent dancer. If I could, you know...study a bit, I bet I could be real good at that, but...you hear about girls trying to be dancers or singers all the time, and failing, or ending up at theatres where the managers are shifty, and I don't want to end up like that, so...I guess, I just sing.

Any ghosts hauntin' ya that I should know about? I don't mean the kind that supposedly haunts the attic--I mean the bad things that follow ya from yer past, or the bad habits ya just can't seem to shake.

Um...do I actually have to answer that? *sighs* My ma was a working girl. Worked at a bar, owned by this guy, Andy. I grew up there. I've been cleaning up after drunks and whores my whole life. Andy got killed by an angry customer not long ago. Ma bolted, like the other ladies who lived there. Left me alone. I ended up here. Hopefully.

Who ya know in the area, hon? Friend or foe, I wanna hear about it. An' have ya got any fam'ly left?

I don't have any family left. Ma's gone, never knew who my father was. And I don't know the neighborhood that well. I'll find my way, I guess.

Seein' anyone special, dear? *smiles slyly*

*shakes her head quickly* No. You can't trust guys. They only want one thing.

Now, last of all, baby, I need ya to tell me why you's here. Where'd ya come from, an' what kinda life did ya have before?

I'm here because I need work, and no one was hiring, and someone suggested newspaper selling. I didn't have a great life before this. I worked at a bar, the Red Rabbit, cleaning, and waitressing, and...dealing with drunks and angry customers. *quietly* Anything to get away from that. Anything.

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Profile By: Goldie

E-mail Address: stillgoldie1899@yahoo.com

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