I Only Have Eyes For You
Last night at the bar, there was a band on before West Coast Grand called Leslie and the Badgers. Leslie was a country singer/songwriter, and she had a very sweet and emotive voice. And I couldn't take my eyes off her. My friends repaired to the patio when Leslie started playing, as it was hot and muggy inside. I stayed inside simply because I couldn't walk away from her. She was a waif in blue jeans with sparkling eyes and unruly red curls that tumbled down her face and over her shoulders. And she kept looking at me.
Or at least that's how it seemed. I have always heard that many performers pick someone out in the back of the room and focus on them to make sure that their gaze does not fall short of anyone in the audience. Or maybe they just pick a reference point in the back. For all I really know, she was looking at the poster that was behind me on the wall I leaned against. But it's much more fun to think that she was looking at me. For the first song or two, I couldn't meet her gaze. I get very uncomfortable when a woman is looking at me. I looked at anything else...the people at the bar, the other members of the band, the floor. But she kept looking at me. And eventually I warmed up and kept looking at her too. I know it can't be true, but I swear that for about three songs, neither of us looked at anything else but each other. It didn't hurt that she was cradling a weathered Telecaster, only the sexiest guitar in the world. By the end I was even smiling and swaying to her twangy tales of woe, and I don't even like country music. It was like we went through an entire relationship in 30 minutes. Tenative fumbling, mutual infatuation and then easy comfort.
Leslie said her goodbyes and left the stage, and to extend the metaphor, I guess that's when we went our separate ways. But it was a perfect relationship while it lasted, and I'll have nothing but fond memories of my time with Leslie.