The night was hot and sticky. The roar of traffic pulsed between every set of lights in this urban sprawl. I'd been blown out by a friend for what would have been a great night of drink, music and hopefully, lust.
Every few months or so we head down town and immerse ourselves in the seedy side of life. After years of boredom that 9-5 throws at you, it's good to let off steam and forget about the daily grind. A bit of banter. A bit of flirting. A bit of slap and tickle never hurt anyone.
Yet tonight I was on my own. My mood was grim. It's so hard to lift yourself to the natural highs of the party animals when there is only yourself for company. After several bars of drinking steadily and catching up with the usual jokers and clowns that have dotted my life, I stumble into my favourite musical haunt.
It had the air of a faded jazz club. What used to be filled with smoke, now had to satisfy itself with even dimmer lighting. Candles abound and there is always the cloak of deep red to rose tint the eyes. A trio were playing the usual slow, moody jazz that connected the better paid performers of the night. It suited my mood and I sprawled on my chair and took in the clientele. The usual lovers spread across the room, both musical and physical. It was a good mix and lent the club an air of sexual tension that always helped my mood.
There was always the same number of fingers and hands tapping the beat as there was exploring under clothing. The lighting dark enough to afford the lovers some privacy yet bright enough to offer a voyeur the flash of public indecency. My eyes lingered and caught the attention of several women. Almost daring a response to their giving and receiving of titillation. I smiled knowingly and moved on. To be truthful, it was too early for a dalliance and the music was my main choice for being here.
I had no idea who was due to perform. I had spent many a night either slumped with lustful desire at the sensual moving female singers or crashing around the room to some raucous jig played by any number of fiddling, drumming dervishes.
At last, as I poured another glass of red wine from my half empty bottle, the spotlight lit the stage to reveal the announcer. The usual, over enthusing of a mediocre artist made me stifle a yawn but I still applauded politely. After all, without music, my life would mean nothing. It was the hype I hated.
The band struck up a slow, soulful tune, full of deep, plodding bass and haunting guitar. It was pleasing to my ears and I warmed to them quickly. After a minute or so, there came, what I can only describe as the most incredible and haunting voice I have ever had the privilege to hear. No body accompanied the sound for some seconds and then a vision of beauty sauntered onto the stage. Dressed in a deep red velvet, full length, figure hugging dress, split to the thigh and showing the top of a stocking, this wondrous vision had me in the palm of her hand in a second. Everyone must have heard the clunk of my jaw as it hit my table. Long, elbow length gloves and a rose tucked into her cascading, jet black hair finished her appearance. Yet it all paled into the background compared to her face. Such beauty and elegance. Deep, full, red lips drawled around the words of the now forgotten song. It was a soundtrack to my beating heart. Love at first sight had come knocking for the first time in my life and it was using brute force and a battering ram.
I watched spellbound for what I presumed was about ten minutes but what was obviously over an hour and then she announced that she was going to get a drink and come back in twenty minutes or so for the second part of her act. I jumped to my feet and applauded much to the amusement of the other 'cool' customers. And then, yes then, she headed past my table towards the bar.
I moved my chair out of her way with a flourish and an awkward half bow and she rewarded me with a dazzling smile.
