He hated working late; it seemed that somehow his boss always found a way for him to stay extra hours to work on pointless things. Sometimes he would be the last one in the office, working even till the cleaning people came in late night. He could use the money though, that studio equipment wasn't going to pay for itself and he wasn't in the mood to commit any robberies.
On Tuesdays though, he had no problem working late because he could stop by the cafe afterwards and check out the open mic poetry nights. Poetry was never really his thing, sometimes too eclectic for his taste, but he always admired a poet's way with words. Each week he would leave inspired to improve his own writing, to add different styles and flavor to his work. Also it was good to get out and be around other folks his age, since during the day he was cooped up at work with older people and was usually alone at home.
The main reason he came, though, was to see her. So far she had came to the last three open mic nights but never got on stage. She came with her friends but seemed to have more fun as a spectator than entertaining the idea of getting up to speak. He noticed her frame the first time she walked passed him, the scent of her fruit flavored body lotion entrapped in his nostrils. Even in the dark bar her skin tone seemed to light up the room accompanied by a smile that made his thoughts stutter. Plus she was thick, nice sexy thighs and legs, with large round breast he could see himself spending hours playing with alone.
He watched her from the other side of the bar, almost feeling like a stalker, wanting to step but not having the confidence. She always had a good time with her friends, laughing, vibing with the atmosphere and just basically chilling. He admired her natural look, beautiful locks twisted with grace and sense of self. He tried to play the low with his observation of her, hoping she wouldn’t notice him paying her so much attention, but he was nervous because it seemed a few times she looked directly at him like "Yeah I see you." Luckily he was able to concentrate on the performers as they had the spot jumping with angry political tirades, passionate exotic love encounters and scenic descriptions of a better place.
As the night moved on, the drinks he was sipping calmly on started to have an affect on him. He was feeling a good buzz, nothing serious just real chill, but he had to pee badly. When he returned from the bathroom, the first thing he noticed was the jazz band was playing an especially soulful tune. It seemed the lights had gotten a tad bit lower and there was a breath of passion filling the air. The he heard her voice...
"Each touch...each thought possessed...manifested in his touch...but it was his touch...that controlled my thoughts...possessed by the desire of his touch...then I felt him touch me..."
Without looking he knew exactly who it was, her voice sounded like the perfect audio accompaniment to her visual aura. His full attention turned towards the stage. There she was standing before the mic, orgasmic words poured from her lips and exploded in his ear drums. His eyes caught hers and it seemed she looked deep inside of him and projected her poetical image of her partner upon him. He felt as if her words were written directly for him.
"Every word spoke resembled another touch...skin trembled by the slightest touch...asking, begging, SCREAMING to be touched...no longer silent but moving towards being touched, being enough...enough for him to touch me..."
He was almost jealous of the sax player on stage. As he interpreted her words with the sounds of his instrument, their presence seemed like her words and his notes were entwined in the throws of passion. There was no more perfect love for her other than his touch. When the last word slipped over her sensuous lips and his sax thrust full satisfaction into her lyrics, the crowd erupted in clap mixed with mutual moans of affection from others who experienced her experience.
He stood directly in front of her on stage, leading the standing ovation, but never letting his eyes break from hers. No longer controlled by his nerves and shy nature, he reached out a hand to her, to help her off the stage. The next few minutes where a blur as they went back to his table, sparked conversation, sipped a few drinks and parted exchanging information. "She had been looking at me; I can’t believe she even noticed me, wild." His thoughts could not focus on anything else as he drove home from the club, anticipating his call to her tomorrow.
They talked sparingly over the next few days, at work thru email and at home on the phone. The more he found out about her, the more intrigued he became. He seemed to devour any information she fed to him, remember intricate details about stories, revealing guarded secrets about himself that he had yet to share with others, engulfing himself into her. There was no speak on what their relationship title should be, because it just was...Two people connected by what seemed to be a greater force.
"So I take it that wasn't the first time you performed at the club, you had control of the room as only a true veteran could." He inquired as they spoke on the phone a few weeks later, not having seen each other since they officially met.
"Actually that was the first time I performed at that particular spot, it took me a while to actually gather up the nerves to perform in front of a new audience. There was a fire at my regular spot and I have been looking for someplace that gave me the same vibe every since."
"Well I was moved beyond reason by your words, as you can tell. I have been dying to hear you perform again. It felt good to be so captivated by a woman who could express herself so eloquently, and still maintain a down to earth vibe." He was nervous, hoping he was able to go thru with his plans.
"Yeah I got skills don’t I, ahah you know you liked it boy." Her laugh sprinkled out over the lines.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever ma, But on the real you did put it down." On top of all the other reasons he was feeling this girl; her sense of humor pushed it over the edge. She was able to go from serious to funny with no qualms. He wanted to see her tonight, away from the phone, the e-mails and her friends. He spoke up, "yo there is this place on the other side of town where you can perform at, and I promise you will love the vibe."
"Oh really, what’s it called?"
"Interludes, um a friend of mine owns it and they are having a special poetry open mic tonight. I can guarantee you will get to perform, especially if you do something sexy, it’s that type of night. Plus we can have dinner there too, you like pasta?" There he had said it, the plans were in motion.
"If I understand you correctly, are you asking me out? Because I love pasta, as I am sure you remember me telling you, you wouldn't be using that as leverage to get me to say yes would you? And how do you know I got something sexy to perform, I might now be feeling that way?"
"So is that a yes?" He said with a smile.
"Hell yeah, let’s do it"
His smile spread from ear to ear, but was able to calm himself to give her the address and time to meet him, and leave a message on his boss's machine telling him he was taking off a bit early. He contacted his friend to tell him what he had planned and his boy was down with everything, helping out to the tea. He headed home to get ready, tossed on his most dapper outfit and best smelling cologne. He checked himself in the mirror and felt that he was especially fly, and deservedly so. The phone rang.
"What’s up dawg, everything is set, what time you getting here?"
