Mic Drop
The power of love.
It was a teenage wedding, and the old folks wished them well
You could see that Pierre did truly love the mademoiselle
You Never Can Tell, Chuck Berry
He’d never played an instrument in his life. In fact, to the best of his knowledge, he had no musical talent whatsoever. That all changed the night he met her.
Although, truth be told, he never actually met her. He merely saw her from afar, shining like a crazy diamond amidst the generic throngs of coffeehouse denizens; each and every one who would no doubt insist they were an extra special and unique snowflake.
A madness unlike anything he had ever before experienced possessed him, and he rushed onto the tiny stage erected for open mic night. The raggedy instruments, provided by the coffee shop, were strewn carelessly about after the last group of aspiring musicians had screeched and caterwauled their way through some eternally popular staple of late 90’s radio. He snatched up the battered electric guitar, switched on the beat up amp, and deftly tuned the instrument to his desired key. The crowd, homogenous and faceless, aside from his radiant enchantress, held their breath with silent intensity as they waited for what came next, utterly transfixed by the madman on stage who was seized with vigorous purpose.
Finally satisfied with his fine tuning, he leaned into the microphone and spoke for the first time since scampering onstage.
“This song’s a personal favorite of mine, and it’s dedicated to the blue-eyed and blonde hottie wearing the sexy sundress.” He winked playfully and, despite the fact he had never played an instrument before, skillfully plucked out the swaggering intro to the most romantic song he could think of at the moment.
She's totally committed, to major independence
But she's a lady through and through
Afterword: To enhance the impact of this story, listen to the song below after you read.
Author’s Note: While this was intended to be a 100 word story, no word limit imposed by mortal man can contain me, and it ended up somewhere between what the great
calls a Crunch (250 words) and a Stretch (500 words).If you enjoyed reading my Thoughts, consider showing your appreciation by contributing to my retirement fund.
Wait! That's it? What happened next? Geeeeeeeeeeez, how'm I gonna make it through my day not knowing?
The Strut? I wonder how that went over. Well, at least he didn’t play The Stroke, by Billy Squier.