Picasso and Snickers - Part 6 - The Juke Box
By hudsonmoon
- 286 reads
The music at the Chelsea Book Shop flows from a juke box that sits side by side with the phone booth. No charge. Step up. Press any button for your listening pleasure. Then sit, relax, enjoy. Dance if you must. Only not so you cause a disturbance. Pretend your Gene Kelly and amble around with a comfortable ease. Wink at a sweet old lady. Casually pick up a book and do your best flirty dance moves for the one who’s been making eyes at you. Discreetly of course. We don’t want to distract the reader.
Hit B6 for Nat King Cole’s Mona Lisa smile. C12 has Billie Holiday singing a tragic tale of Strange Fruit. E32 will put you in a Fever with Peggy Lee.
Jason hit his favorite number. F12. Jave Jive by the Ink Spots.
I love coffee
I love tea
I love the java jive
And it loves me
“Isn’t that music a little old for you, Jason?" said Debbie.
“You won’t think so after you’ve been here awhile," said Jason. “The music around here is older than Moses, but it grows on you."
“Yeah," said Debbie. “Like a fungus. Don’t you have anything from my lifetime? I’d even stomach some Lady Gaga if it got me back into this century. This music is just plain creaky.”
Jason proclaimed a coffee break and told Debbie to put her broom aside.
“Hold your right arm out like this,” said Jason.
As she did so, Jason put his his left hand into hers and placed his other hand on her waist.
I love coffee
Sweet and hot
Whoops! Mr. Moto
I’m a coffee pot
“Really?” said Debbie. “You’re putting moves on me in the coffee shop? Well, you’re in for a surprise, because I don’t know how to dance. And, besides, I don’t need a boyfriend at the moment. You’d have a better shot with the broom”
“It’s only a dance," said Jason. “I don’t plan on marrying you just yet. So don’t be so full of yourself. As far as I‘m concerned you‘re just a co-worker. And if you weren‘t here, I would be dancing with the broom. I do it all the time, and it never gives me any grief about it.”
”So you think I‘m no different than the broom?” said Debbie.
”Well, you do have nicer hair,” said Jason. “Not nearly as many dust balls. And you‘ve definitely got it beat in the shape department.”
”And?”
”And nothing,” said Jason. ”Just feel the music.”
Oh, slip me a slug from the wonderful mug
And I’ll cut a rug till I’m snug in a jug
A slice of onion and a raw one, draw one.
Waiter, waiter, percolator!
“So?" said Jason. “What do you think? I haven’t stepped on your toes once.”
“It not as bad as I thought,” said Debbie.
“You’re a much better dancer than the broom,” said Jason. “I might even have to break up with the damn thing again. But don’t tell her just yet. The last time I did that she lost all her bristles and played nothing but Ella Fitzgerald’s My Man is Gone Now for hours on end.”
“So,” said Debbie. “What other songs do you like to dance to?”
“I knew you'd like it,” said Jason. “This music cuts right to the soul. This place will do that to you.”
“More please,” said Debbie.
Shoot me the pot
And I'll pour me a shot
A cup, a cup, a cup, a cup, a cup!
Yeah!
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