When you play piano in a joint like Roxie’s, you see it all. The dames with the short skirts, long legs and assigned seats at the bar. The card sharks with their extra aces. The craps saps with their loaded dice. The pool hustlers with their phony bucks. The cops. The robbers. All of ’em, alchies.
But the dude in the argyle socks takes the cake.
Tonight, the crowd is mellow. I’m doodlin’ “Chopsticks” for fun and need a second pair of hands. This British bloke saunters over to the ole 88 and jumps right in.
Roxie got the pic.
(Photo by John Nixon. Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, Friday Fictioneers. June 12, 2013.)