Blog Post #6- Thinkin' 'bout her by the elevator

The repetitive tune of the ice cream truck continued playing in his head as he walked into Washington Heights. The only things on his mind were the tune playing over and over and the magical image of the lovely lady at the bar. He couldn't figure out how to get either out of his head. As the door shut behind him, he looked a few yards ahead to see a young and beat up girl and another woman come very close to a collision. He watched them go their separate ways- the woman to the stairs and the girl to the elevator. How did the woman not take the time to talk to the poor bruised girl? He felt so sorry for the girl even though he didn't know her one bit. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to make sure she was alright and to see if she needed help. As the elevator door dinged, he started to walk faster to try and catch up to her. He got there as the doors were closing and even tried to stick his arm in the door to stop it. It closed anyway. Maybe he's see her another time. He just hoped she'd be ok.
As he waited for the elevator to come back again, his mind wandered back to this lady from the bar. He wondered what her name was, what her story was, but most of all: what floor she lived on. He imagined coming to her door and her jumping into his arms. He imagined them sitting close on a couch- him with his guitar in hand of course. He'd sing her a song or two and then he'd write her a song. He knew he could make a swell song about her. They'd be perfect together. She could come on tour with him- come to see him sing and know all the words to all his songs. He'd never felt this way before. He quietly said to himself, "She's the one!" As he snapped out of his day dream, still smiling to himself, he realized he'd missed the elevator again. The little button wasn't lit up anymore. He pressed it again and waited, still grinning. The ice cream truck began to sing it's tune outside and Leroy ran out- holding his hat to his head- to get himself a snow cone.

Blog post #5 Butterflies

The noise of the crowded bar didn't stop Leroy from singing any different than he always did. He never let anything ever distract him while he was in his concert mode. People continued about their drunken conversations...which often revolved around criticizing Leroy. He didn't need much attention. He was used to not getting much from the people in the bar by now but he still had hope. He was reaching the final verse of his last song when he felt something unfamiliar. His eyes were closed as usual, but something felt different. It was like that feeling he got when he slept over at Cullen's once a long time ago. He was lying in bed- it felt like somebody was looking at him. He opened his eyes. Sure enough it was Cullen sittin there staring at him-waiting for him to wake up and play catch. Leroy tried to ignore the feeling... nobody was paying him any attention. Every time he's opened his eyes during a tune... all he gets are backs and side conversations. No eye contact. He felt it more. Somebody was looking at him. He opened his eyes to two eyes gazing into his. Not knowing quite how to react, he closed them back after a few seconds. How embarassin, he thought. That girl was kinda cute too. What was I thinking! Maybe she liked my song. Maybe she was readin my lips and learnin the words!

He thought about what to do. Should he open his eyes back? Why did he feel so funny? He got another feeling as he pictured the girl in his mind. It was different than eyes beating on him like the feeling before. It was more like being at the top of a roller coaster- having all those butterflies in your stomach and stuff. He opened his eyes. She was gone. Dag nab it. He'd lost his only could-be fan. Where'd she go? Why'd she leave? He thought. Why did he even care if she left... everyone else does all the time. Something was different about her. He hoped he'd see her again. He hoped she liked his songs too.

blog post #4 What a Deal

Leroy woke up on the sofa. The T.V. was on and half his pork rinds were on his chest with the bag- the others on the floor. He blindly reached for the remote on the table and knocked over his empty beer cans from the night before. Cullen came in after hearing all the racket from the cans. "Well, 'mornin sleepin beauty! Couldn't even make it to the bed last night could ya... don't blame ya much. That match sure wasa good one. I was watchin it myself!" Cullen said of the WWF wresling match that was on the night before.
"Nah, Cullen. It was just the concert. Wore me out. Man, sure was a thrill though. I think the crowd liked me just fine! They just, ya know need some more of Leroy before they can really get wild. They dont know all the words yet. They will. They will." Leroy said. "You know what, Ima go look for a paper and eat me some REAL breakfast at the diner. Wanna come Cul?"
"Nah, I've got things to do. You go right on. But hey... bring me back some grits and a biscuit, hear?"
Leroy stood up from the couch and brushed off his pork rinds. He ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his hand over his face before he put on his hat. He walked out the door and headed down the empty elevator out the front door of Washington Heights. He looked to the left and to the right down the street in search of a paper machine as he reached in his pocket for a quarter. He was looking for one like they had by the corner store in Paintlick. There wasn't one in sight. He looked ahead and saw a measley guy with a can and a stack of papers accross the street. He walked over to the guy and asked him what they need machines for when they've got great guys like him sellin papers. "An its for a NICKEL, not a quarter!" Leroy exclaimed as he dropped him a nickel into the can. The guy just glared back at Leroy. "What a deal, thank ya sir!" Leroy tipped his hat and walked in the street with his nose in the paper. He was well on his way to a hearty breakfast to get him ready for his show that night. He was ready to just sit back and read his 5 cent paper, either. He couldn't wait to see what was going on in Paintlick. Too bad Paintlick isn't often mentioned in the papers there.

Blog Post #3 The Big Night

"Ya gettin ready for ya big night there Leroy?" Cullen asked as he walked in on Leroy who'd been tuning his guitar for what seemed like an hour and a half. "Justa let ya know, don't think they'll notice much if yer strings aren't tuned to a T. Ya are playin for a buncha drunks aint ya?" They both laughed.
"You got a point...but hey. May as well practice fer my big concerts. Ya know like when catch my break and stuff... go on tour an all that. Can't be outa tune then!" Leroy continued to tune and practice his guitar until nine when it was time for him to head down to the bar. Along the way he was sure to tell everyone he saw -on the sidewalk, in the elevator- about his "concert" that night. He was sure there'd be a crowd anyway but more folks couldn't hurt! Besides it was already drizzling outside and was only supposed to get worse. Surely folks would need something to do to keep dry.
He walked in and introduced himself to the manager and anyone else he happened to see. The manager pointed him to the stage he was going to be playing on- or rather the old platform with a bar stool and a microphone. Within minutes Leroy had his guitar out strumming a few notes as he talked to the measley two people trying to watch the game at a table and the three seemingly depressed people equally spaced two stools apart at the bar. "How is everybody tonight?" He unnecessarily yelled into the microphone. "My first song isa little something I wrote 'bout my hometown Paintlick. That is the fabulous Paintlick, Kentucky. Home of the best BBQ east otha Mississippi! Yall really gotta try it out if your ever passin through. Well yall. Here it is hope ya like it." He stopped strumming for a second to take off his cowboy hat and place it in front of him upside down for tips. Thats what he'd seen folks do before.
He strummed a couple notes and began to belt out his first of many twangy country songs for the night. The people in the bar couldn't hide the dumbfounded looks on their faces. "Who the hell is this guy? And what is he doing here?" One man leaned to ask his fellow drunk at the bar. Leroy wasn't singing to much of anybody but it didn't stop him from singing his best and loudest. The people went from being in shock, to trying to tune him out, to obviously annoyed. Leroy kept on singing. Half the time his eyes were either squinted or closed because he was so into it...he didn't even notice their reactions. People who came in were more than confused. Poor guy, they thought.
"I'll see ya all tomorrow! Enjoy yer night ya hear. Don't drink too many more fellas!" He said as he pointed to the guys at the bar as he walked out of the smoky bar into the drizzling rain. He counted his change he got in tips and realized it was just enough for a bag of pork rinds. He walked in, passed the produce to the chip stand next to the register. It was obvious nobody else cared much for pork rinds judging by the dust on the package. He stood behind two women waiting to check out. One was buying pears and the other apples. He noticed that her fingers weren't much less plump than the apples she was buying when he saw them as she handed the man a five dollar bill. Looked like he had a lot of fives in her wallet when she dropped them on the floor. He reached to pick them up as some woman who looked like she fell into her daughters dress up trunk got to them first.
"Well ya beat me to it miss, I coulda got that! My name's Leroy... Pickler that is. Leroy Pickler's the name." The two women awkwardly said "I'm Lola" and "I'm Delilah" and turned back around. "Ya know...I had a girlfriend back in Paintlick named Delilah." Neither of them turned around and continued to ignore Leroy. They thought he must be crazy or something. Why was he talking so much?
They left. Leroy paid in change and headed back to his apartment, ready to lay back, get out of his wet boots, pop open a beer, and eat his pork rinds.