Monday, December 5, 2011

Electric boots and a mohair suit.

What's the wildest thing you've ever put on? A suit, a tie or a whole lotta leather or lace? Or were you too afraid of what others might say so you simply kept on doing the same ol thing? People get worked up about the silliest things, don't they? Would their opinion of you bother you? What works you up in a bother? Would you put yourself on display for others to see? Like a stage perhaps?  Or would you put up your craft? I always thought it was the craft and not the person that was the thing we should be watching. Some people can't stop watching though... can you? Interesting thought. Lovely. Enjoy. kisses. m.

Let Me.

Let me tell you one thing, I’m through with the games. I’m done.” It’s the same lie I tell myself every day except it’s realized itself into words that I’m telling the incomparable Missy LaRue. She’s spent the better part of three years following my song with a dance in this third rate club. Somewhere between the first and second act of the night I tell her about my new ex-love and how much of a revelation it’s brought upon me.

What if I told you that you were going to die? If I told you that you were going to die tomorrow would that change how you lived today?”  There’s not an answer in the house. It’s the one thing Missy likes to end her set with and tonight is different cause something happens when she asks it. It’s a hypothetical question meant to get the audience going ‘round in their heads. Never once does Missy ever expect a damn person pipe up with an answer. But tonight when she ended with that thought, somewhere off in the far right corner it came, a small voice that grew louder and louder until I heard what it was saying.

“It doesn’t matter.” The small man yells from the corner of the club before following it up with a colorful word or two between his rant. He’s telling her off. Telling her that she doesn’t know a damn thing after he calls her a self-righteous bitch before telling everyone that she’s a lying piece of work. Now Missy La Rue doesn’t jive with much of what other people think about her. Not one bit, but when you traipse across the advice she’s given others that gets her a bit worked up. Cause Missy don’t talk for vanity or personal gain. Missy wants to see people succeed and she knows like I know that most people won’t do a damn thing unless someone tells them to. That’s where her horse and pony show comes in.

Honey, quit lying to yourself!” Missy tells me before motioning to the powder puff by the mirror.
“I’m not lying. What?”
“Honey we all say enough with the game. 'I quit.' 'I toss in the towel.' And although you can’t quit the game of living, you'll still lie to yourself and say it. You know, the only thing you ought to be through with is thinking you can change people. That’s what you should think. Every time you drag another one of these third rate bastards back from this third rate club and tell yourself that it’s love, that’s the lie. That man wants one thing and it sure as hell ain’t love. But he’ll tell you that just the same to get it. ”
“Oh Missy, you’re being…”
“Honest. Darling, I’m being honest with you. Which is more than anyone else in this world or next will ever be with you and don’t you forget it. I’m honest with every person I meet and their behavior dictates whether they are friend or foe, not mine. My sharp tongue won’t harm you if you take the truth like it is a sword to the chest. A lie is the kind that stabs you from the back.”
“Missy then how will I ever…”
“True love waits. A man that wants to know you, all of you, he does so. It’s what he’s after and he’ll be glad to wait for much more. The ones that want ONLY will settle on that. Just that.”
“Missy, I love you. Thank you for…”
“Darling you don’t know love, but I get your sentiment anyway. You’re ok in my book.”

Now sugar, you’re entitled to your opinions about my show. I don’t think much about people who don’t have a lick of sense in their head. And fact be told, I love me a man with enough gumption to stand up for what he believes in. But first things first the name calling I can’t abide by and the second thing… the way you talk to someone you’ve never met speaks highly about the type of character you are. And you’re message is coming in loud and clear.”

Missy continues same as always. When she takes the path from side stage and walks down into the crowd she motions to Mike the stagehand to move the spot to follow her down into the crowd. The oohs and aahs of the crowd grow louder and louder until Missy is standing right next to the small man.

“Well sugar, what’s your name?  
“Jerod” the man breathes into the microphone while a thin blanket of sweat coats his face.
“Well, Jerry darling, what do have to say?”
“Um,” the small man swallows and says nothing.
“Come now, cat got your tongue?”
Silence emanates from the nervous small man.
“That’s what I thought, Sugar. Where was I? Yes, let us talk a little more. I don’t expect you or any of you to follow my word to the law. In fact that’s not at all what I’m about. I’m not a role model, I’m not a savior, and lord knows I’m not a saint. I’m simply here telling a little of what I know to those who may or may not know some of that already. And maybe it might help someone from making the same mistakes I've made. Oh yes! Jerry darling, are you ready to talk?”
“Ma’am, I don’t much agree with what you just said. I don’t like what game you’re running here. You’re trying to get people to do what you say and you’re a liar by that much.”
“Alright, that’s an opinion. No one is running a game any which way or how. And honey you shouldn’t make what I’m doing about you. Cause you don’t have to come here to listen to what I’m saying or watch what I’m doing. These people out here in the crowd, do you see them? Take a look. These fine people they get what I’m doing and what I’m REALLY about. And they do.”
With those words the audience roars with applause. Missy smiles and pats the small man on the back while the noise and laughter grows and when it rescinds she speaks her last words on the matter.
“So honey, I’m afraid your opinion… it doesn’t matter.”

And with those words, Missy let the man sit exactly where he was. Leaving him with his own words to ponder and the crowd with a show that they wouldn’t much forget when they wondered if tonight was truly their last one.

No comments:

Post a Comment