A smoky room, a small cafe
They come to hear you play
And drink and dance the night away
I sit out in the crowd
And close my eyes
Dream you're mine
But you don't know
You don't even know that I am there
I was at a coffeehouse, sipping my vanlilla caramel cappuccino when I listened to this lovely music that was being played. At first, I thought it was the music that was being played over the sound system. But then I turned around and there was this short Latin hunk with short, black hair and soulful dark brown eyes. He was playing with his guitar. I watched him play a soft, romantic melody with the guitar. To me, it would sound like the beat for a sexy, sensual, slow Latin ballad. I watched hold it as he played with it. I briefly imagined myself being held in his arms in the way he was holding his guitar. I then turned away as I finished drinking my cappuccino, thinking he wouldn't notice me.
A few minutes later, the Latin hunk walked up to me at my table. He introduced himself to me as Howie. I told him that for a minute I had watched him play lovely music on his guitar. He thanked me for the compliment.
He then said, "I would love to invite you to my place. Maybe I can serenade you with a song on my guitar."
I smiled at him and said, "I love to. I'll see you tonight."
"Great." He said as he smiled and kissed my hand.
I wish that I was in your arms
Like that Spanish guitar
And you would play me through the night
'Till the dawn
I wish you'd hold me in your arms
Like that Spanish guitar
All night long, all night long
I'd be your song, I'd be your song
Steal my heart with every note you play
I pray you'll look my way
And hold me to your heart someday
I long to be the one that you caress with
And you don't know
You don't even know that I exist
That night, I drove over to Howie's lovely, spacious, white, Spanish-style house. I arrived wearing my ruby red satin crepe asymmetrical dress with matching red stiletto heels. My black hair was down to my shoulders with candy curls at the ends, and decorated with a red rose barrette on the left side of my head.
Howie greeted with a smile and said to me, "My, you look really lovely tonight" as he kissed my hand.
"Thanks" I said, smiling back at him.
We moved over to the living room and sat on the plush, cream-colored sofa/loveseat. He go out his guitar and started playing the slow, sweet melody that he played at the coffeehouse that day. As he played, he then start singing to me a sensual, sexy, Spanglish song. He sang that song like it was just made for me. While he was singing, he looked at me with passion in his eyes. I figured when he first saw me was when he came up with the lyrics to the song. I've never thought I would be his musical inspiration.
After the song ended, I clapped and said, "That was lovely, Howie."
"Thanks. So are you." He replied with a smile.