Page 7 of His Strings Make Her Legs Sing
It definitely was that. As I looked through the selection, I noticed that some of the songs had an asterisk or a plus sign next to them. “Why are there songs with these symbols by them?”
“Oh, for those songs, Citrell plays guitar, and Marco plays the drums if both symbols are there,” she informed us. “The asterisk is for Citrell, and the plus is for Marco. Oh, picking a song that they play on is a real special treat, but their songs tend to be the harder songs to sing. Because we use a live band, a lot of amateur singers come here to sing like it’s open mic or something. We’ve had a couple music producers come through as well to find talent.”
I missed the entire end part of what the girl said because I was stuck on the fact that Citrell played guitar. I had a reallybad thing for men who played strings. My ex was a guitar player in the church. He annoyed me with the whole I’m sold out for Christ, but at two in the morning he was in my text messages asking to taste my pussy. He also had a little hand problem. If he told it, the Lord delivered him from the sex demon. I understood that people still had slips after deliverance, but once or twice a week wasn’t just a slip.
“I think I want to have someone speechless today,” I said with a raised brow. I wanted something that spoke volumes. Plus, the strings on that one will get you wet without the lyrics.
The girl gawked at me with skepticism written all over her face. “Um, you sure you want that one? It’s a hard one.” She giggled to play off her doubt in my vocal ability. That was the normal reaction before my sister and I opened our mouths.
With a smile, I responded. “My sister will back me up. You shouldn’t be worried about whether I can sing it. Worry about if your boy can string it.”
“There isno way God should have made sisters that fuckin’ thick and beautiful,” Marco said. We stood behind the bar as we inconspicuously watched the sisters at the song selection booth. “Wynsdae is more my speed.” He hit me on my shoulder. “You like the more conservative type.”
I looked at my boy sideways. “First, how do you know that I want to holler at Sundae? Yeah, she’s pretty and thick as fuck, but I’m chillin’.” I didn’t believe my own lie when it left my mouth.
“Bro, don’t play with me. I have never seen you tell anyone that everything was on you while they were here,” Marco pointed out. “Yeah, a free drink, but everything? Nah, brodie, that’s a no.”
I waved him off. “Man, you’re tripping. I wanted to give them incentive to sing. They claim they can, so I want to hear.”
Marco scoffed then chuckled. “A free drink or two would have done that shit. Your ass is extra.”
“Yeah, you’re right, but my offer guaranteed it,” I said as my brow tried to flirt with my lineup. “You see they’re at the booth.” I smacked his arm. “Yo, you missed what Wynsdae said to Meeka.”
After I told him what she said, his eyes went to her. He had that look that I knew all too well. He was about to be on her ass. How she responded to him would determine whether it would be respectful or not.
Our conversation paused when Dora stood in front of us. She looked down at the tablet in her hand, then back at us with a wider smile than usual. The only time she came over here with her tablet was when there was a requested song that we were needed on. “After the next song, both of you are up for the next two songs.”
She handed over the tablet. Sundae and Wynsdae were after the person who was currently butchering her requested song. The sad part about it was that she sang the song like she sounded amazing. You could tell when a person got up to sing karaoke as a good time to laugh and when they really thought that they could sing.
My head popped back up to glare at Dora when I saw the songs they selected. I glanced at Marco who looked just as surprised. “These are the songs that they picked themselves, or did you suggest these songs?”
Dora’s head bucked back. “Now you know good and well that if I did suggest a song, it wouldn’t be one of those unless I knew that they could really sing,” she said with a hand on her hip. “Hell, just because a person can sing doesn’t mean that they’ll be able to sing those.” Her arms crossed the front of her flat asschest, and the corner of her lip twitched before it lifted. “Miss Sundae told me that I shouldn’t be worried about if she could sing the song, but rather be worried whether you can play it.”
Marco covered his mouth with his fist. “Oh shit! Nigga, I like her ass.”
My eyes went to the table where the sisters sat. Like she knew we were talking about her, her eyes locked with mine. When her brow arched along with her top lip, I knew a challenge had just been issued. “Yeah, we’re about to turn this bitch out. Let me go to my office to get Glenda.”
Marco’s head snapped in my direction. “Damn, you’re pulling Glenda out! Yeah, this shit is about to be epic.” He glanced at Dora. “Did they sign the media release?”
“They sure did. I’ll make sure Joel has everything set up to film,” she said before I gave her back her tablet. She sashayed back to the booth.
We had a full house tonight to the point that we had to turn some of the patrons away. If we didn’t, the fire marshal would have our asses. As time went on, our bar had become extremely popular in the Columbia area. A lot of the popularity came from our TikTok page. Dora was our social media manager. She took it seriously, and because of her diligence, our page pulled in around six thousand dollars a month because of viral videos. We also received collaboration requests all the time.
The song that the young lady continued to butcher was almost over. I left the bar to get to my office. Once I was in the office, I went to my standing safe to unlock it and pull out my special baby. Well, one of my special babies. Like some men and women were sneaker heads, I was a guitar head.
In my safe, I had six guitars. I didn’t have them locked up because they were expensive; however, I had modified all of them to achieve a very specific sound quality that I wanted. The guitar brands varied. The same was true for the guitarsthat lined the walls of our bar. Those were also a part of my collection. They all were insured heavily as some were pricey from collections I acquired from famous strings players.
I stood there contemplating which one I should use or if I should switch them out for the two songs. I knew my dinky, which I named Glenda, could handle both of the songs. I removed the tone pot and moved the volume knob on that one to get a very distinct sound. Yeah, it could definitely handle both songs, especial Dirty D by my man Michael. On the other hand, the Fender Stratocaster, Cherri, would give the other song a very smooth vibe. Glenda was a little more edgy. “Let me follow my first mind and take my baby Glenda.”
Miss Butcher a Song was finished when I got out to the front. Marco was already on the stage making sure his drum set was the way he liked it. It should have been, because no one played his set. Our house drummer, Carlos, had his own drum set. It was like that also with my guitar. Our house guitarist had his own.
I stepped on stage to plug in to make sure Glenda was tuned. My eyes watched as Dora went to the sisters’ table to let them know they could come up to the stage. The whispers in the crowd didn’t escape me. If you were a regular here, you knew it was real when I brought out Glenda. She had a very distinctive paint job with her name inscribed on the front. It was also rare that songs were picked that required me alone, but me and Marco on the same song was an anomaly for some.
“So, I heard you were the man with the magic strings.” A shiver went down my spine at the sound of Sundae’s sultry voice.Fuck, man!If her singing voice was as sultry as her talking voice, then I was in trouble.
My cheeks warmed as I took her in again. The jeans that she wore, I would never let her wear those shits outside without me. All that ass was plump and still had a little jiggle to it. Herbreasts were big and would serve as good pillows. She wasn’t much shorter than my six feet plus height, but it was enough for her to have to look up at me a little. Scratch that, she might have been much shorter because she had on heels that had to be at least six inches. Her hair was in an up-down style that fit her perfectly.
“Yeah, I am. My strings aren’t the only thing that’s magical.” Yeah, just like that.
