20 minutes till the Fiasco was to take the stage for their most epic show ever and they still didn't have their hands on the live music permit. The permit was being held captive by a down on her luck diva who wanted anything but to hear a spunky band playing mood lifting mashups while eating her kung poa chicken. The force field of negativity surrounding this chicks bitter heart could only be broken by the most adept lady ; this was a job for Evan Ignatz.
Evan sauntered up to the target leaned over smiled crookedly and said, "Hi Darlin." "Hi, Evan, how are you, remember me?" returned the diva flatly. Terror struck deep in our heroes heart. He had meet this lady before? Was he the cause of her bitter heart? Would he be able to win this minx over before their fans started rioting? The band waited with baited breath to see how he could navigate his way out of this one.
Without skipping a beat he ran his fingers through her hair and said, "Oh Helen, how could I forget you?" as he slid into the booth beside her. "My name is not Helen," she said as she slid further away from him. "I know, but you're so beautiful, a war could be fought over you." Just like that a laugh escaped her throat and a smile brightened her face. Seeing his opportunity Evan slid his fingers through, his hair again, locked eye contact and asked for the permit. Under his hypnosis the diva reached in her handed and hand over the paper that all their hopes and dreams were riding on. "Thanks darlin. Maybe after the show I can pay you for a shoulder rub," Evan said as he deftly got out of the booth. "Sure" she squeaked never taking her eyes off of him.
Cheers went up for Evan as he handed over the permit. "Ain't a thing," he daid humbly as he placed his fingers on the keys and started the show.
A show saved, a bitter heart turned sweet, all in a days work for Evan Ignatz, lady flatterer extraordinaire.
No comments:
Post a Comment