Crown at the Coat Check

Tell the drummer count me through the door. One, two, three, four! That black Cadillac rolled off from the curb. The doorman raised one eyebrow, never said a word. I tipped my hat to Trouble in the corner by the band, Then Ruthie took my coat and pressed a crown into my hand. She said the room was waiting, I said, "Honey, Let it wait." I like to make an entrance when the hour gets late.