What the hell had I been thinking? I had to have been drunk at the time.
I was standing on a stage in some dingy bar, a microphone before me and a small vidscreen off to the side showed the lyrics to a song I had chosen. It had been a favorite of mine, though I don't remember when I first heard it or came across it.
The music began playing, and I counted down the beats till I came in.
Ba da pa pa. Ba da pa pa...
Come here, pretty please
Can you tell me where I am?
You won't you say something?
I need to get my bearings
I'm lost, and the shadows keep on changing
And I'm haunted
By the lives that I have loved
And actions I have hated
I'm haunted
By the lives that wove the web
Inside my haunted head
Ba da pa pa, ba da pa pa...
Don't cry, there's always a way
Here in November in this house of leaves we'll pray
Please, I know it's hard to believe
To see a perfect forest
Through so many splintered trees
You and me, and these shadows keep on changing
And I'm haunted
By the lives that I have loved
And actions I have hated
I'm haunted
By the lives that wove the web
Inside my haunted head
Ba da pa pa, ba da pa pa...
Come here
No I won't say please
One more look at the ghost before I'm gonna make it leave
Come here
I've got the pieces here
Time to gather up the splinters, build a casket for my tears
And I'm haunted
By the lives that I have loved
And actions I have hated
I'm haunted
By the promises I've made
And others I have broken
I'm haunted
By the lives that wove the web
Inside my haunted head
Ba da pa pa, ba da pa pa...
It's been so long since I heard that song, I was amazed that I could still remember how it went. And of course, all the guys were hooting and hollering.
Heh. Maybe I should have put out a tip jar. I'm sure I could have made a few woolongs. Then I could hit the dog track, hit it big and pay off that debt.
Damn Whitney. Damn his lying ass to Hell. I should have known at the time what was going on.
I return to my table and begin sipping on the cosmopolitan that had been deposited there during my song. It was cold, and made with first class alcohol.
I looked across the room at a man with an expensive jacket and suit. I eyed his clothing, mentally picking out where his wallet was, if he was armed, things such as that. It would be so easy to pick his pocket, charm him a bit, then as we stumbled to his car, I'd pocket his wallet, and when he passed out drunk I'd just slip out, no muss, no fuss.
But he's cute. Maybe I'll actually let things progress a bit before leaving. It's been lonely the last six months.
It's not that I'm like that, but a woman gets lonely from time to time. I'm sure there are guys out there that feel the same. Well, some single guys at least.
Sure enough, he's impressed when I come over and ask if I can sit with him. He's had a few Vodka martinis tonight already, and he is visibly flustered as I sit next to him and turn my charm on full.
I know I have a good body. I would go as far to say that I have a hell of a body, but I'm modest. Mostly. And the skirt and blouse I had put on before heading out did nothing to detract and everything to add. The blouse was sleeveless with a keyhole neckline; the skirt was clingy, slit to the thigh on the left side. I had a pale turquoise headband holding my dark hair back from my face.
And just as I had planned, we got up a few more martinis and cosmopolitans later, heading for his car. My hand dipped into his pocket and retrieved his wallet as we headed up the steps to his flat. He opened the door, ushered me in, and proceeded to pass out in the foyer.
I looked at his snoring form, flabbergasted.
Well, at least I'd get some cash out of this deal. I open his wallet and pull out a few of the higher denomination bills out and slip it back into his pocket before dragging him to the couch.
Time to hit the tracks.
This time I'd win for sure.
Whistling tunelessly, I went back downstairs and hailed a taxi.
One day, maybe I'll meet someone, someone kind and loving. And rich.
I snorted. That'll be the day, what with my luck being what it had been as of late.