This was the regular spot, between Goliaths Records, and just at the tip of the entertainment district. The evening was living and had a pulse of it's own. When night rolls around the university students come out to ease their mind. The Drunken debauchery ensues. I sit their on the curb, back against the wall of some chic apparel, high end, retail joint.  My right arm hanging over the body of my guitar, strumming while my fretting hand slides up and down the neck, from chords to scales. Playing for the passer byes.

        Looking to my right, a long glowing street, filled with neon club signs, and the beat of house music flaring. Dub step and a variety of other music can be heard faintly humming from the clubs. A messy slew of dance music. Across the street you've got a rockers café. Where most of my friends would be. The echos of laughter and alcohol fill the air, people walk bye, toss a dime or two, then proceed to stumble on. You even get the occasional groupie or two.

         Now though, approaching me, what looks like a dilapidated homeless man. You can always tell the type, the ones you've got to keep an eye on. I've had them try to steal my guitar case or even be bold enough to lunge at the guitar. Though not to generalize, some would just like a buck to buy something to eat, which I'm delighted to spare so long as they bugger off. 

            Always a smile, charisma's the name of the game. When you see a flock of gorgeous Chiquita's, you've got to make eye contact and sing to them like they're your soul mate. Often enough, they'll stop to talk, you'll exchange a few flirtatious words and they'll be off. The brief moments of romance in my life.

      Then as often, you'll be bombarded by your typical drunk, roid raging, sports enthusiasts. The ones who just stumbled out of the sports lounge and are off on a testosterone trip. These types will linger and can be a crowd pleaser if drunk enough, though can get obnoxious and will most likely ruin the mood if not moved along in due time.

      It's been a warm night, with plenty of smiles, more and more as the night stretches on. A small crowd gathers and claps after every song. The clinging of change falling into my hard case. The a familiar face pops up in the crowd. Yasmine, the little Egyptian firecracker. Black hair, red lipstick and decorated with high end apparel. A sight for sore eyes.

      " Hey there trouble maker, want to share a smoke" As she launched a wink my way.

"Ladies your man of the evening is taking a break, thanks to you all, feel free to say hello any time, it's been my pleasure." And intermission begins.

"So I take it that was a yes?" Never a straight answer from you.

" Yaz, I quit." Though I could use your company

"Oh man, sorry, I keep forgetting" Her smirk, she's a bad liar.

          I put my guitar in the case and we sat on it.She began in a detailed story about how the guy she was dating turned out to be a total, loose end, nothing worth holding onto. A burden, and a slouch. This girl was hard to get, to this day I've never seen her let a guy even kiss her. She was holding out for something, and the girl deserved it. She was cover page material, jet black hair, the whole package. A meticulous charmer, completely irresistible, but to wild to tame. 

      "So what happened with you and that girl?" As she giggled, she knew what happened.

I gave her a look, and with a monotone tongue said.

" Thanks for that by the way"

Her smile, those pearly whites gleamed.

     "She wasn't right for you anyway, what you deserve is some bohemian goddess, not a valley girl. Who wants a princess, when you can have the queen"

    She always had these funny explanations for everything, Yasmine righteousness.

     "Did you really need to bad mouth her, and scare her away" Still in my less then enthused voice.

     "Somebody has to protect you, that girl was a walking talking infection, you didn't do anything with her, did you? You should be quarantined!!!"  There was an air of non Nonchalance and total amusement in her voice.

          " Like I said. Thank you" I flashed her a grin and the two of us were strolling at a slow pace down the street. She kept bumping into me. She was wearing a tight leather jacket unzipped and a beige dress. Red lipstick and tiny Blue slippers. Her neck adorned with all sorts of gleaming treasure.

    "So where's the next stop, captain!? Where shall we grace the streets with your presence once more" She seemed to sing this.

    She made me smile. "I was thinking of heading home, doubt you'd want to spoil the rest of your night now would Yuh"

She rolled her eyes back. " Oh contrary, tu sais je veux voire ton maison"

"What?' I said confused "Was that French"

"Well then Mademoiselle, you're more then welcome, lets hit the transit train, and you can spend the night. Though don't expect a fancy soirée"

      "All the better boy, all the better" She targeted me with one of her notorious winks, followed by blowing a kiss.

We were off, homeward bound.

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