Summary
In a metropolis humming with rotary-dial static and jazz-age delirium, Torchy—gawky yet preternaturally self-possessed—hijacks a clerical vacancy by rerouting every rival candidate to the wrong floor, then strolls into the boss’s walnut-paneled sanctum as though destiny owes him back-pay. The tycoon, starved for verve, keeps the kid on a whim; the boy’s first task is to jolt a narcoleptic switchboard girl awake, a stunt executed with slapstick cruelty that somehow passes for corporate ingenuity. Dusk finds him in gold-braided livery at a candlelit supper club where monocled swells shed ermine wraps and inhibitions in equal measure. Between hanger and hat-check he locks eyes with a debutante allergic to small talk; one fox-trot later he has stripped a tremulous swell down to shirtsleeves, commandeered the dance-floor, and turned the spotlight into a private constellation—until maternal thunder drags the girl back to the gilded cage. The curtain falls on Torchy surfing the chrome fender of a limousine, cigarette ember sketching crimson Morse against the night, murmuring chauffeur-as-destiny: “Home, James.”
Synopsis
"Torchy" is a pert office boy. He secures his first situation by sending all other applicants for it to the story below and assumes that he is already hired. He has attracted the attention of the boss, who is looking for a live boy, and this saves him from being fired at once. He shows the boss how to wake up a lazy girl at a telephone switch board and this constitutes his first day's work. He manages to get the evening job of a check boy at a fashionable restaurant and dancing cabaret. While engaged in checking the wraps of guests and picking up tips, he becomes interested in an impulsive young lady who is bored by conventions and looking around for something new. "Torchy" elects to dance with her, but he cannot go on the floor in his uniform. He snatches off the dress coat and waistcoat of a terrified young man and sails out on the dancing floor with the venturesome young lady. Their dance is different - it is the sensation of the evening - but the young lady's mother intervenes and "Torchy" is sent back to his job in the cloak room. When the evening is over, he is seen riding on the rear axle of a limousine, puffing a cigarette, murmuring "home James."
