I sit down on the barstool I've officially declared mine. Each day a different songstress appears in a long and dazzling dress, making her legs appear even longer than they are. She always has long dark and silky locks with strands of gold entangled skillfully in fancy braids. Deep red lipstick with a blindingly white smile. She always seems to sing to me as she animates across the stage. Hands carressing the mic stand and moving her body teasingly so much it aches. The club is no place to find a woman, a bar provides a real show. Her nails look like pearls, french tipped. She slithers like a snake, like a goddess. Maybe like medusa. Simply put, they're stunning, dazzling, and seductive. With their milky white skin and glamorous but mysterious auras. The barmaids flutter by like pixies while I wait for my usual service.

 "Hey Toru, you want the usual?" The barkeep says with a slight hiss and indirect condemning tone as she cleans the glasses to a sparkle. She holds the flute up to the bar light and gently rubs out the last smudge with a soft white rag. I just grunt in agreement and like clock work I hear the slick movement of her skimming across the floor to the tap. I can feel her eyes on me, gazing glissfully. I don't even wink in her direction, not today. The soft light and the wooden architecture of the bar table adds a soft and comfortable feeling from the corner of my eye. I hear the satisying clink of my liquor tapping the table.The microphone is rushed out signifying another 5 minutes.

I open a cigar and the bartender instinctively leans in over the counter, lighting it for me, gazing from the stage to me, feeling the small sweet huffs of air. I can smell her as she whispers in my ear the usual info. With a sly/smooth voice she tells me the details of the show. "She's a really sweet girl from Okinawa." she bites her lip and thinks through her words carefully. Slowly and meaningfully her voice is, it's like poetry everytime she speaks. "They say, instead of carrying the bags under her eyes, despite being so young. Her manager used it as glory under his belt." I thought carefully in the meaning she has told me.

She coyly slides herself back over the counter. Smoothed her short sleeveless sparkly red kimono and placed her head on her forearms, gazing up at me as she teasingly tilted her head in knowing curiosity.

I blew smoke and ran my tongue over my teeth in thought. 

She smiled at me through her red lips, and her glazed skin made her features smooth and the best kind of messy. The curtains began to unveil the show as the barkeep slipped away like sand through fingers while she served and chatted with new customers.

Not sure whether the singer blessed or cursed me with her voice. Anyway I look at it, I was in a trance. With her sweet and menacing smile, her voice was smooth and harmonious. At the end of the night the barkeep came back. She dramatically sighed and threw the polishing rag over her shoulder. She shyly glanced at me and to the ground while wiping her forehead.

"Goodnight, Mr. Toru. I hope you enjoyed the show." she smiled genuinely as she put elbow grease into the island. "See you soon.?" she purred as she walked back to the workers quarters with a raised brow.