It was completely out of impulse. As soon as I stepped inside, I knew I was going to regret it. I always leave these places feeling frustrated and confused, and even still I completely ignored the warning signs.
I had actually sworn to stop too, especially after I got married; because besides having more responsibilities now, I knew it would never result to anything. The happiness derived from being in these places is certainly fleeting and temporal. But the carnal flesh is simply weak.
I didn’t carry much money, but I left my wallet in the car just the same to prevent me from doing something extremely stupid. A valuable advise I got from a friend who knew the desire all too well.
The person at the door welcomed me inside. “Hello, how can I help you sir?”
“No, I’m good. Thank you. Actually... I shouldn’t even be here... I’m sorry for wasting your time... I...”
And before I could compel my feet to head towards the exit, there she was standing across the room. Her friends who were equally as beautiful surrounded her, but her elegance singled her out like a rose in a basket of white tulips.
The person entertaining me immediately noticed what suddenly took hold of my interest. In the middle of my trance I was able to force out the only question that mattered at the time, “Who is she?”
“The one in red? Ah, she’s new here and might I say sir, you definitely have good taste! Please take a seat while I go get her.”
"NO! Wait!!!"
While I strongly refused and was certain he heard me, he continued towards her. Perhaps we both knew my resistance was more than half hearted. A futile attempt to resist and conceal a desire that was stunningly obvious. Still I felt I owed it to myself to at least openly decline.
As I contemplated to just rudely walk away, along she came towards me accompanied by her escort. I was briefly introduced and before I realized it, we were completely alone. Her beauty from afar was captivating, but up close it was enough to drive a lesser man insane.
An awkward silence settled between us, neither of us could be blamed; after all we were complete strangers to each other. Her escort upon sensing my apprehension came, broke the ice and chatted with me for a bit to help ease my tension. He succeeded. Because shortly thereafter, though completely devoured by guilt, I found my hand already resting on her curvaceous body.
I have abandoned my reality, guided by my senses I continued to run my hand along her thin and slender sides. It was after my gentle fingers softly brushed her neck did she begin to speak, in a clean warm tone that I was not aware existed. My guilt slowly vanished along with my hesitation as her voice completely mesmerized my weak and willing senses.
“If you want it dirty, you can also play her that way sir...” The same voice from before advised.
“Excuse me?”
“Jazz boxes like the Ibanez Artcore series are guitars designed mostly for clean tones, but I assure you she can equally deliver if we switch her to the gain channel for that dirty distorted sound. Here, give her humbuckers a try.”
And he was right. As I did palm muted riffs she responded with enough crunch that was unlikely heard of in a full hollow jazz guitar. Sweet sustained notes reverberated throughout the music store.
“Her neck is completely set in, that’s why you have fuller tones and easier upper fret access. She also has a very smooth Bigsby, her functioning roller saddles on the bridge help eliminate the problems associated with tuning. And for seventeen thousand two hundred pesos, the AFS75T is the last jazz/blues guitar you will ever need. It would definitely compare to a Gibson 335. So sir, shall I wrap her up for you? We accept all major credit cards.”
I handed her back to the store clerk and sadly replied, “It’s definitely a gorgeous guitar. But it's still a bit pricey. I’ll need to think about it. Thanks for assisting me though.”
I knew my place. There is no way on earth I can come up with 17 thousand pesos. And even if I did, I wouldn’t have enough sound arguments for my wife and kid on how daddy needs to invest in an expensive musical instrument.
I gave out a long deep sigh as I stepped out of the Mandaluyong branch of Audiophile Components. As I started the car, I saw the store clerk gently placing back the guitar on her stand; carefully wiping the smudges I made on her beautiful red glossy finish. Soon some financially able musician would come along and eventually purchase her. That may very well be the last time I see her. My heart never felt heavier.
Honestly I regret even going there, because now I have to deal with the aftermath of frustration that will eat me up for the next few days. Poverty sucks! Why did I have to subject my self to this sort of senseless torture? This is exactly the reason why I don’t go inside strip clubs!!!
