May 11, 2017
A little riff on the Italian Commedia dell'Arte
The bar was crowded enough to hide in, but not boob-to-back deep like it could get on a Friday night. Arlo took a stool at the end of the bar, leaned his light saber against the rail, and ordered his usual Wild Turkey with Bud chaser. His glance moved past the bar man, a pale and quiet character, further down to the wild haired, dark-eyed beauty throwing drinks to the cowboys in this hick town. He was happy to find Colombina grabbing the spotlight, flitting and flirting her way into the hearts of the crowd. This was how he liked her best… teasing and testing the men around her. The jukebox blared Willie’s Pancho and Lefty. A typical night at the Kountry dell Artz Saloon.
A call for more hard cider sent Little Pete the bar man into the wings for a fresh keg. Colombina sashayed over and smoldered loudly. Flipping her hair, she placed her hands on her hips and said, “Why Señor Quínn, I wasn’t expecting you tonight, but it is always a pleasure to see you. Is that a pistol in your pocket?” She winked, raising her tambourine and giving it a tiny shake. Her ample bosoms followed suit.
Arlo leaned over the bar, extended his leg and pointed his toes in his snakeskin Tony Lamas. Hoping to lay claim to Colombina body and soul, he turned a quick somersault and flashed his jazz hands. ‘Bina’s passion was enflamed. She admired Arlo’s dark beauty, boldly offset by his colorful costume. He silently thanked the style gods that bold prints were all the rage now. Fitness and style kept the women looking! A real man should always display like the peacock he was. Feeling his oats, Arlo picked up his laser sword and smacked the bar with vigor.
Disoriented, Colombina opened her lovely kohl-lined eyes to find herself in a large, circular bed in the honeymoon suite of a well appointed Best Western somewhere in west Texas. Arlo lay by her side, well oiled and ready to boogie. The Champagne was chilled and open on the night stand; Heart’s Magic Man filled the air. Arlo watched with ardor as ‘Bina’s heart opened. Just as her passion neared a peak, the music ceased and a clown head appeared in the room like Ceiling Cat. A loud clap and a hearty “here we are again” found both lovers back at the bar. Arlo HAD to work on his timing. OMG, right?
Little Pete was setting the keg, and patrons jostled for a place at the bar and claim to ‘Bina’s service. Arlo’s attentions quickly turned toward a blowsy blonde who had just entered the bar and was removing a Bandidos biker jacket. He called for a couple of beers and a platter of hot wings. Wooing always made Arlo hungry. He was a man of many passions.
© 2017 Joan Cichon All Rights Reserved
A little riff on the Italian Commedia dell'Arte
The bar was crowded enough to hide in, but not boob-to-back deep like it could get on a Friday night. Arlo took a stool at the end of the bar, leaned his light saber against the rail, and ordered his usual Wild Turkey with Bud chaser. His glance moved past the bar man, a pale and quiet character, further down to the wild haired, dark-eyed beauty throwing drinks to the cowboys in this hick town. He was happy to find Colombina grabbing the spotlight, flitting and flirting her way into the hearts of the crowd. This was how he liked her best… teasing and testing the men around her. The jukebox blared Willie’s Pancho and Lefty. A typical night at the Kountry dell Artz Saloon.
A call for more hard cider sent Little Pete the bar man into the wings for a fresh keg. Colombina sashayed over and smoldered loudly. Flipping her hair, she placed her hands on her hips and said, “Why Señor Quínn, I wasn’t expecting you tonight, but it is always a pleasure to see you. Is that a pistol in your pocket?” She winked, raising her tambourine and giving it a tiny shake. Her ample bosoms followed suit.
Arlo leaned over the bar, extended his leg and pointed his toes in his snakeskin Tony Lamas. Hoping to lay claim to Colombina body and soul, he turned a quick somersault and flashed his jazz hands. ‘Bina’s passion was enflamed. She admired Arlo’s dark beauty, boldly offset by his colorful costume. He silently thanked the style gods that bold prints were all the rage now. Fitness and style kept the women looking! A real man should always display like the peacock he was. Feeling his oats, Arlo picked up his laser sword and smacked the bar with vigor.
Disoriented, Colombina opened her lovely kohl-lined eyes to find herself in a large, circular bed in the honeymoon suite of a well appointed Best Western somewhere in west Texas. Arlo lay by her side, well oiled and ready to boogie. The Champagne was chilled and open on the night stand; Heart’s Magic Man filled the air. Arlo watched with ardor as ‘Bina’s heart opened. Just as her passion neared a peak, the music ceased and a clown head appeared in the room like Ceiling Cat. A loud clap and a hearty “here we are again” found both lovers back at the bar. Arlo HAD to work on his timing. OMG, right?
Little Pete was setting the keg, and patrons jostled for a place at the bar and claim to ‘Bina’s service. Arlo’s attentions quickly turned toward a blowsy blonde who had just entered the bar and was removing a Bandidos biker jacket. He called for a couple of beers and a platter of hot wings. Wooing always made Arlo hungry. He was a man of many passions.
© 2017 Joan Cichon All Rights Reserved
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