Roppongi Huff N Puff  

saxyjazzman 55M
26 posts
9/14/2005 11:06 am

Last Read:
3/5/2006 9:27 pm

Roppongi Huff N Puff


Every night I walk out of the house to the train. That's when I always return to The Problem. Saxyjazzman! Don't fret. Just go on along for the ride.

First set over......
Depression carried over into the music. Very unusual. Made mistakes, got pissed. But last song, I spotted the girl they drove me home with last night and I made her laugh with my unintelligible as I broke the set. She looked sad too, sitting glumly between two hotshot guys.

Second set over. (Smoke in the bathroom awoke the music) ......

So last night this lady and I rode in the back of the slick Japanese car and at the end of easy Japanese /English mix-it-up, I said, "Do you know 'deja vu?" and she says yeah and I say I feel I've talked to you before about how I like to dance and then you said you did too and then she says it's not deja vu we did this before and then I remembered. They take me home with a lot of girls. But now I remembered. Fun talk in the car. She loomed as a Candidate and then faded from the field of vision for weeks and now she was a Candidate again, we were singing along with the radio, "Across The Universe" together in the back seat, then I was explaining Bob Seger's "Night Moves," ('young American sex practice in car,' 'nostalgic feeling he remember'). She'd been drinking, her head lolling toward me, smiling, her young lips totally kissable, mine vaguely unworthy.

Saw her a few minutes ago, waiting by the piano. You could tell she was already morphing, the wary-of-me antenna wiggling, her smile forced. Went over and told her wow I was writing about her right now. She got excited, and I saw something seep down and glisten on her leg as they pulled her away. You have to hit them hard with Destiny I guess. Yeah, that's the ticket.

Hit they motherfuckin asses with DESTINY, baby.

Yo. Which inverted, is oy. As in oy vay. Welcome to Club Smoke And Mirrors. Just now, four Special Ones (flirting occurs) came out of the back room at 30-second intervals. Woosh. Woosh. Woosh. Woosh. After the second one came out, I just started cracking up, and so Three and Four found me quite cheery. Then Five came out. Tiny fucking dancer. Your eyes go right to the two milky bikini strips of untanned skin falling from her brown shoulders to the heaven beneath the cups of her pink evening gown. I establish she has a cold, her stomach and throat hurt. Try to give her my pink coat. She looks ridiculous. The coat looks cheap. They take her away.

Six arrives. Snake Lady! We cannot speak. It's huge leap. It's impossible. But we do. Says she never drinks at work but pours it down on her off day. Now they drag out a customer from the VIP room hanging semi-conscious between two waiters. Snake Lady and I dance from wall-to-wall, evading passersby. She's still in the long black sock. Absolutely no waist. There's only a space there, a black hole, pulling me in, pulling me in. She likes me. It's so obvious. She likes me. They take her away.

After the 3rd set
I'm out of control in stage, that is, I am hot, people, I am all the way live, a hot, very funky, smokin' sax guy nailing down "Change The World" and Seawind's "Free" and this incredible, laid-in-the-shade George Duke thing and NOBODY I mean NOBODY is listening (why is a player like me STUCK in this hole) except at the end a huge crowd of guys moves from the back of the room to below my stage, and the awed gleams in their eyes say it's me, they are digging ME, and when I'm through I go cockily in English, but slowly, "So why did you guys move over here?" and a little guy with a thin moustache goes, "Kore wa Nihon, eigo shabanai, nihongo dake onegai," and I split to the back room, writing this. NOT-Number-Seven comes in and she's a recording studio baffle, nothing gets through and thank God they take her away.

Bounced off four more before it was over, last was best, Rika-chan leaning up from her customer, hand outreached, staring into me, she had actually been checking the music out and digging it. There was understanding in her eyes. Korean chick. A little shaft-like, but a total fox. Wants me to slick down my hair like Richard Gere, who makes me cringe. I dislike comfortable-looking Jews. We are not supposed to be relaxed. Rika's also crazy about Kylie Minogue. I said let me ask a personal question, if you could, would you kiss her? Smiles at me cross-eyed. I was thinking hey, real passion here for KM. How about an AdultFriendFinder moment? I could use her on my team.

My driver was drunk and falling asleep. Both. Maybe a little puff of something. My stomach went crazy, but a late-summer watermelon from the fridge coooooooooooled me out.

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