If I dated a Rockstar.....
Jack Daniels, mug stains and Marlboro's would cover every coffee table. Our place would be decorated with paint splatters on the floor and faded old Polaroids hung on brick walls. A spacious airy loft, with a ton of sunlight in a particular city-whose name I'm sure you can assume by now. My boyfriend is a Rockstar, and I'm the girl who's come undone. Every Tuesday night we eat Italian at Babbo's, just between Washington Square and Sixth Avenue, in Greenwich Village. Frankly, we love Chinese but it's just too cliché. There are strings of lights attached to the walls, and when he sips his wine the light ricochets off his eyes and makes them twinkle, like magic. After dinner we invite friends over for some more liquor and acoustic music. They share a quilt on our sofa lay on each others lap with their limbs intertwined. They listen to him jam and casually look at me with a wink... yea..we're all thinking the same thing. Boyfriend noticed and grins a little at me, still somehow he makes me blush and I have to advert my eyes away from his.
Our friends get sleepy and decide to leave, we see them out, bid them goodnight and promise to do it again next week. He shuts the door, with his back against it and pulls me in as I'm about to walk away. Slowly, slowly kissing me, his pillowed lips wrap around mine, hands caressing my exposed back. I jump and he catches me, carrying me over to the kitchen. We kiss some more as the coffee is brewing, no need for words- the best is yet to come. I love late night coffee drinking with him. His shirt is off, and I'm tiptoeing around him in lacy black panties with thick wool socks. We rehash about our evening, our friends and our plans...Tomorrow is a big day. We throw our cups in the sink, kiss Charlie on the head and race each other to bed. The three of us usually run into the bedroom together, two lovers and a dog...but Charlie can sense when it's alone time, and tonight he's sleeping alone. Wednesdays are always an adventure. We wake up in the late morning, sleepy sex and kiss for a while, until Charlie starts to whimper-and that's our cue that it's time to go. We take him through Washington Square Park, and stop for coffee at a dingy place. Crappy service, but strong coffee, they recognize us but it's Charlie that they love. He sits outside and licks the hand of every stranger passing by while we laugh at him and plan out our day. Baby squeezes my bum and asks me when I'm coming home. I say "I don't know, but I'll be home in time for your show" He kisses me goodbye and takes Charlie home while I stop in at the office. It's a stupid place, and I hate it there, but it pays me well and it won't be my career.... I get home late to an empty apartment, and I think he must have left.
I hurry up and sweep on lipstick, just then the door opens.
"What!?"
"I just took the dog out-don't worry we got time"
"Once for good luck?"
..........................
With a little more time to spare I tousle my hair and grab my sparkly shoes.
"Baby, let's go!"
"Coming"
He's got his guitar, and I've got my camera. We shuffle out and hold each other. It's a cold night, we're bundled in layers and keep our heads down to dodge the snow. The crowd is already drunk and waiting, he apologizes that he's late, we were ..."busy". But they don't mind-they're just happy we made it. I slap his bum and he tugs my hair for good luck...Tuning his guitar and chatting with the fans, the lights dim and it's showtime. I stay near the back and watch the crowd, they move their bodies, sway together, smile and drink. Drunken men try to dance with me but I push them away. I came to listen. Because while he's singing for a room of lost souls, he's really just singing to me. I freeze every single time, the same way I do when Liam Gallagher sings Wonderwall. The world stops. I don't move, my eyes are glued on him. I get lost in those familiar lyrics, and when he covers Chelsea Hotel #2 I laugh at the secret only we share.
...You were famous your heart was a legend/
You told me again/
You preferred handsome men/But for me/
You'd make an exception/
We catch eyes and I raise my glass to him.
Somewhere from behind me I hear a girl say,
"She's so damn lucky"
...ya I am.