Cry Me A River

th8EDIPLV8  Download    It’s 2:30 in the morning at a small but popular club in Boca Raton.  The last of the customers had finally stumbled out the door and the band was packing up after a high-energy night.  I had just closed up the piano and my Hammond B3 (the sweetest-sounding organ on the planet).  I was still trying to get used to playing piano with one hand and organ with the other, but it was coming along.

I sat down at a corner table and sipped on my last scotch of the night.  The bass player was still onstage plucking out a song that was familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.  The drummer was over by the bar chatting up the waitress.  “Good luck with that one,”  I thought.  John, my horn player and best friend, dropped into the seat across from me..  ” ‘Yakety Sax’  sounded like a funeral dirge tonight, ” was all I could think of to say.  He gave me a sad smile and said, “Yeah, I know.”

“She was in the crowd tonight.”

He looked up at me.  “I saw her.  So?”

“Well,” I said, “she wants you back.”

John thought about that for a minute.  He looked toward the stage and seemed to be listening to whatever song the bass man was working on.  “You think she wants to come back, huh?”  I nodded.  “Not this time,” he replied and ambled toward the stage.  I watched him pick up his tenor and adjust his mic.  I sighed… then joined him on stage.  My drummer soon followed, abandoning his love interest.

There’s nothing like the call of “just one more song”, especially when the place is closed, quiet, and safe.  After that, we all left by the same door, each heading off in different directions.  Tomorrow night, we’d come together and do it all again.



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