Dear Valentina [The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel]

☆ Chapter Nineteen: A Battle Against the Chauvinists

"The emotional, sexual, and psychological
stereotyping of females begins
when the doctor says: 'It's a girl.'"
― Shirley Chisholm

CHAPTER NINETEEN.      A BATTLE AGAINST THE CHAUVINISTS

WARNING: Explicit Sexual Content
(This fic is already rated as mature
so this shouldn't be a surprise to anyone,
but since I haven't written any sex scenes yet,
I figured I should give a heads-up before I
introduce softcore porn to my readers. Enjoy 👀💦)

☆

      The night, as predicted, did get worse.

      One after one, after Bobby introduced them, mediocre comedians stepped on stage and incomprehensibly charmed the audience for eight minutes each. Valerie remained at the bar, utilizing one of her drink tickets for a Manhattan on the rocks, watching over her shoulder at the acts, sometimes chuckling, most of the time just rolling her eyes. As her given slot came closer, a surge of excitement renewed her, making her skin itch for the chance to be on stage and then immediately get home back to Brooklyn. Unfortunately, that animation died every time the host came up to them and announced they were getting bumped for another comic.

      Soon enough, an hour passed by, and still, no announcement for Mrs. Maisel or Valentina King. Midge stubbornly remained standing up, reclining her back stiffly against the edge of the countertop and glaring at the grandstand like it was her personal enemy. The blonde next to her didn't even bother to watch anymore, finishing her drink and glumly chewing cherries. The pair's manager was wasting no time in availing herself of the free drink tickets, finishing the last one with a lowball of Scotch. The quick succession of alcohol clearly was affecting Susie with rapid force and when she reached over to hand the bartender her last slip, she dropped onto the floor like a boulder coming off a mountain. She landed with a thundering thud.

      Midge's head whipped around and her eyes widened, "Are you okay?"

      Valerie abided by her stool, looking down at her face-planted manager with a stunned expression. The bourbon had her second-guessing if she was seeing things correctly. "I fell off the stool!" Susie announced from the ground, voice still booming despite being directed at the hardwood floor. She made no movement to get up. "Like I'm Dylan Thomas!"