It may not rival the Lana Turner/Schwab's drugstore fable, but the Hollywood-discovery yarn of emotive singer/songwriter Leah Andreone comes close. Last year, the deal-hungry artist was slinging hash in a seedy diner off SUnset Boulevard. One afternoon, she overheard a table of industry bigwigs grousing over the sad state of alternative music, how there were no decent artists worth signing. She didn't wait for an engraved invitation.

"I asked the restaurant owner if I could quickly dirve home, get my demo tape, and race right back," recalls Andreone. Perfect timing -- the head honcho was leaving just as she drove up. "So I said, 'I totally eavesdropped on you, and I'm sorrry, but could you I give you my demo tape and let you check it out?' He said, 'Yeah, yeah, cool.' I watched him get into his car, and he put the tape in and sat and listened, and then he drove." Oh well, she thought. "Another one bites the dust."

And if you're wondering how Veiled got produced, the story has a wallop of a punch line. The mystery man arrived at the diner at 7:30 the next morning wanting to woo the waitress to RCA. Cinderella also happened to be playing one of her coffeehouse balls that night. "After the show, the guy asked me, 'Is that the best you can do?' And I said, 'Yeah, actually, it was.'" Dramatic pause. "And he goes, 'I thought so too -- how would you feel about a contract, kid?'"

Did her benefactor get any free meals out of the deal? Andreone snickers. "Nope. But he did leave me a pretty good tip."

Tom Lanham