Act One

Follow 0 fans

John T. Wurzer

6:40

1 View

 Watch: New Singing Lesson Videos Can Make Anyone A Great Singer

Welcome to the Devil's nightclub act one
An eerie tapestry hung on the wall
Dark reds greens and purples blended together
In a mysterious howl of perplexing intoxication
I started to lose myself in its black charm
The museum was getting quiet
And I thought I heard someone announce that it was closing in five minutes
I tried to leave but I could not move
My feet felt as if they were immersed in a drying section of concrete sidewalk
I stood there with my hands on my hips and I was sucked into the woven threads

I found myself walking slowly down a back street
In the French Quarter on a hot August night
I could hear the revelry from a few streets over
Echoing through the alleys but here it was quiet
I had my hands in my pockets and was kicking an empty beer can down the street
I glanced up at a third story window where a candle was burning
And incense was wafting through the screen
Shadows were moving inside
Other candles flickered from across the room
I heard a crash and the sounds of bits of broken glass hitting a hardwood floor
I kicked the can again
A slight gust of wind blew over my head
And the candles were no longer burning when I glanced back up at the window
The street seemed even quieter now
I took my hands out of my pockets and I lit a cigarette

I opened the back door of a room that was vibrating
With the sensual sounds of subdued jazz
It was a dimly lit bar filled with cigarette and cigar smoke
I think that I was the only white person there
I ordered a shot of tequila
I found a table in the corner and started scribbling some notes on a napkin
It was getting pretty late probably two or three in the morning
When I smelled the strong scent of exotic perfume
I looked up from my twelfth napkin
And saw a beautiful young dark skinned woman sitting across the table from me
He'll be here any minute
She said with a nervous shiver of anticipation
Who?
I asked somewhat intrigued
But at the same time annoyed that she had interrupted my thoughts
You know him
She responded almost breathless
It's Saturday night and he almost always stops here on Saturday night

I was about to pursue this a bit further
When for the first time since I had walked in the door the music stopped
The heavy man at the piano took his cigarette out of his mouth
Poured a shot of whisky down his throat
And leaned over until his lips were touching the microphone
The entire club fell silent
You could have heard a cockroach crawling across a sponge
But even the cockroaches had become motionless
And then in a low raspy voice the man at the piano muttered
He's here

A short skinny bearded man in a white robe came out of the men's room
Grabbed a small acoustic guitar from behind the bar
And stepped up onto the stage
The tall thin sax player slid a small beat up chair across the stage towards him
He sat down with the guitar planted in his lap
Still there was not a sound
Who is this guy?
I thought
And why isn't anyone applauding?
The bar manager set a single microphone in the middle of the stage
And then the little man began to play
Slow jazz at first
So quiet and soft that I was amazed I could even hear it
Every note every chord was clear and magical

The music began to build and become more complex
It grew louder and he started swaying in his chair
His head started to bob and I could see sweat flying from his hairy face
The band started to fill in the background and when he started to sing
The entire bar leapt to its feet and began screaming and applauding
By the time the song finished all hell was breaking loose
And the woman across the table from me had tears streaming down her face
I made my way over to the bar and asked the bartender for another shot
He looked at me kind of funny and said
The bar's closed man
The bar is closed
Quiet he's gonna play another one

As suddenly as the place had erupted into mayhem it became silent again
The man on the stage played a slow ballad
And when he got to the refrain the whole crowd started singing along
I looked at the bartender and screamed
Everybody seems to know this one
He snapped back at me
No man this is a new one
Shut up and sing
The band kept playing
Everyone was singing
I had to find out who this guy was
I made my way up to the stage and found the chair empty
He had already left but they were finishing the song anyway
By the time the song ended people were kissing each other
Hugging each other crying on each other's shoulders
It was the strangest sight I'd ever seen

I was standing by the jukebox
I watching the club empty out
When somebody tapped me on the shoulder and said
Hey man it's closing time
We've got to clear the room
I turned around and found myself looking
Straight into the chest of a seven foot tall security guard
He said come on man the museum is closed
It's time to go home

He walked me to the front door and he locked it as I left
On the steps of the museum a frail young afro american woman
Who sat there in tears holding her face in her hands
Pieces of broken glass were embedded in her feet
I sat down next to her and offered her a cigarette
As she wiped the tears off of her face and stared at the moon
I noticed that she smelled incredibly familiar
She looked over at me and muttered
Thanks
I took her hand in mine and whispered
Don't worry
He's coming
He'll be here
It's Saturday night
He almost always stops here on Saturday night
Last call

 Struggling with Act One? Become a better singer in 30 days with these videos!