Georgia

Whenever I play “Georgia” I can’t help but think of Ray Charles. But this time was different. The bridesmaid was just so hot that I couldn’t take my eyes off her, and I stared straight into her eyes as the song poured out of my saxophone. For some reason today, the reed was just right. It blew free and easy, with a sound as big as your back yard. For a fleeting instant, the thought crossed my mind that it was getting ready to die; that it would make a sound like a duck in the middle of a song, and then nothing. But as I stared into the bridesmaid’s eyes, and blew my heart out, the reed just kept right up with me.

She was licking her lips now, and took a small sip of her champagne.

I started into the second chorus, and doubled it up, playing arpeggiated licks around the melody, and throwing in a minor third that gave it a sultry, bluesy effect. The keyboard player picked up on that, and went right along with me.

She moved her shoulders slightly, keepng time with me as I went into the bridge, and back into straight time.

Other arms reach out to me
Other eyes smile tenderly
Still in the peaceful dreams I see
The road leads back to you

On “you” I took off again, and threw in a blues lick that brought me back to the head.

As I finished the tune, she got up from her table, and walked up to the bandstand.

She whispered to me “Room 308. Seven fifteen,” and she walked out of the room, towards the Ladies room.

I glanced at my watch. It said six. I walked over to the bar, and requested a glass of ice water. Even when musicians are allowed to drink at these functions, I always make it a point to drink only water, or tonic. I don’t want the guests or members of the wedding party to think that I am giving them less than their full value for my musical services. I figure there are reasons they call playing music a job, and staying sober is one of them. Besides, I always tip the waitstaff, even for a glass of water. They notice that, and after the guests have left, and we are packing up equipment, I can get all I want to drink, and sometimes more, if the bartender happens to be a little horny, for free. I sipped my water, and checked my watch.

Six-ten. Time was moving so slowly, it seemed. I set my glass on the bandstand, and went to the Men’s room. As I unzipped my trousers at the urinal, I suddenly realized I was slightly swollen. Thinking about seven already, are you? I mentally said to my one-eyed friend. I finished what I had come to do, and washed my hands. Walking back into the hall, I looked at my watch again. Six-fifteen. I gave the high sign to the rest of the guys, and we went back up to the stand for the last set of the day.

As we walked to the stand, the bass player said, “You’d better hold that sax in front of you. People seeing that lump might think your mind isn’t on the job.”

It’s not, I thought to myself. I can play this stuff in my sleep, and right now, my mind is in room 308.

We played the last set, and closed with “Goodnight, Sweetheart.” As I packed my sax I saw the bartender heading my way with a glass of amber liquid. The ice clinked in the glass as she walked across the room.

Handing me my scotch, she winked and said, “We have a request for you to play a single at a private party in room 308. The stairs are down the hallway to the left.”

“Thanks, Doris. You’re a doll,” I replied.

“Watch out. She’s a firecracker. She had me up for a private session after dinner last night. I think you’ll like her. She shaves, but leaves you a landing strip, so you know just where to put your tongue. She tastes good, too. Nice and clean and wholesome. “ Doris made no secret of her preference for women, and usually managed to have at least one or two of the bridesmaids whenever there was a wedding reception. Clearly, this time was no exception.

“Anything special I need to know?” I asked.

“I think her ass is virgin. She got pretty tense when I fingered it last night,” she replied.

“Or possibly sore,”

Doris laughed. “My guess is that after tonight it might be.”

I chugged the last of the scotch, and felt the familiar warming as it hit bottom. I handed the glass back to Doris, along with a five dollar bill. “Thanks. Keep the change, Sweetheart.”

“Have fun,” she called to my back, as I went out into the hallway.

To be continued