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As I stroked a familiar chordal passage on this vessel of a bye- gone era, I found myself suddenly caught between consciousness and semi-consciousness, somewhere not quite in reality and the outer realm. It was as if the world had spun me neatly into a time capsule and deposited me in the Hollywood club scene of the 1940's. As I awakened from my trip down the rabbit hole, I was startled by the sounds of a cigarette girl; "Cigarettes, cigars, cigarettes" she chirped. I would soon find out that I was in the "crown jewel" of Hollywood night spots, the legendary Trocadero or "The Troc" as it was known. Located on 8610 Sunset Blvd, this was the pinnacle of the Hollywood jet set. On this night, the place was jumpin' and the card was spectacular, as I was delighted to see Duke Ellington and his Orchestra proudly displayed on the marquis.
At that moment, the house lights went down and the Emcee eloquently announced Duke to the exuberant crowd. Duke ripped into "It Don't Mean a Thing (If It Ain't Got That Swing)" and with that mayhem ensued as the infectious beat made it's way through the dimly lit club, encapsulating everyone in it's path. The joint was hoppin': This place was defiantly hitting on all eights, like seeing a pit bull running straight at you without his leash. Fingers snappin' and feet tappin'. I just had to get out there on the dance floor. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted this hot tomato. Long sultry legs exposed by the slit running up her dress, a beautiful brunette,with an intoxicating smile. I could tell by the way she moved that she wasn't a pro skirt, just a sister waiting for an opportunity. One last sip of the "giggle juice" to gather my courage up for the introduction.
"Hello Doll, how about a dance"? She turned to me and said, "The name's Victoria" but me being careless, she caught me peeking at her silhouette. That's when she told me to beat it, the banks closed. Never one to give up that easily, I then flashed the lettuce and calmed this tigress down with a little tiger juice.
At this point, she could see that I was harmless (or so she thought). I watched her every move as she made her way to the dance floor, poetry in motion. As we arrived to the floor,I was suddenly awoke by the familiar sound of my phone,dadading, dadading. "Hello, Grinningelk. May I help you?" I said. 'Elks, I never knew what happened. As you can see, I was brought back to the here and now like a space pod making re-entry but, I suspect it was glorious. Maybe I'll strum a few more chords and see if I can get back in time. Do you see what this guitar can do for you?
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