Barbara LaTouraine, like Trudy, suffered a personal crisis and was thrust into financial turmoil. Previously living with her lover in a tony penthouse on the upper west side, subletting, she was thrown out by her evil and unfeeling porcine landlord from Queens whose names are ... we digress.
Soon after being evicted she and her lover split. Barbara, a natural femme, could not offer her lover Sally the emotional support required to maintain their relationship.
Barbara now lives in a box on the west side highway at the end of Horatio Street where she longing gazes upon the luxury apartments for which she was destined.
For comfort and social solace, necessary to a gal in her predicament, she's befriended by some of the more attractive tenants of that building (apartment #510) as well as a little girl who lives in a crate down the lane.
Barbara and the little girl, over the space of hours, evolved into a relationship much stronger than a mere sharing of circumstance. Theirs was a love akin to mother-daughter and soon after the little girl moved into Barbara's box.
Days were spent with Barbara trying to reorganize her priorities and trying to teach the little girl about how to get along in this crazy world. Evenings were spent with Barbara singing to the little girl about home and pussycats. Nights were spent sleeping, that's all. Really.
Warren, the cute one from #510, happened to open his window late one night to get some air after a particularly long session with David, the cute one, and Rob, the cute one. (Why they weren't on The Island that weekend is a mystery to us all) He heard Barbara singing, a cross between Minne Riperton and Suzanne Pleshette, a kind of smoky Doris Day, a light Carol Channing, something unique yet grating. Warren is a bartender at The Data Lounge, and they need a new act and thinks Barbara will wow them.
Carmelita Pope guest stars as the fading chanteuse recognizing Barbara's talent and saves the audition by repositioning Barbara's necklace which catches on her right breast.