The Chanteuse

Alameda is an island in the San Francisco Bay, close enough to the mainland of Oakland that I can to hold my breath while driving under the water through the Webster Street Tube.  I am in Alameda to hear a 1920’s style trio playing in the one German restaurant on the island.  I have seen this band in cafés in San Francisco, discovered them in a jug band festival also in San Francisco, and sought them out at a house party in Berkeley. 

Tonight is balmy.  I eat dinner with friends out on a patio to the band’s first set, then go inside for the second set.  I see our chanteuse chowing heartily in the back room. She is all about her food, embracing forkfuls, wiping sauce with bread, licking her fingers throughout so that my mouth is watering and I want to eat all over again. 

The guitar accompanist and the clarinetist return to the end of the room where they will play.  Shortly after, so does our chanteuse.  She picks the song and the key she wants to sing in.  Pretty soon she is singing with her hands behind her back and her elbows out to her sides.  I am thinking she is stretching out her abdomen after her big meal and giving herself more room.  But then I know what she is doing.

She is wearing a smart, crisp light-colored pin-striped button up and a flared black skirt and tights.

She is adjusting the zipper on her skirt.  We all know this.  The clothes that bind after eating.  She finishes the song, starts on another, and I watch as her skirt begins to slip.  As she holds the microphone, her belly begins to reveal.  Her singing is wonderfully rich and spirited.  Soon she is holding up her skirt with one hand and singing away.  Adjustments are made, trying, I know from experience, to lock that zipper half way.  Her guitarist accompanist, who shows little emotion in general, looks bemused behind her.  Our chanteuse switches between singing and playing the piano behind her, so that each time she turns her back to us to play piano, we get an update on the status of her zipper.  Thus proceeds the set until it is close to eleven, and the skirt and she find a comfortable relationship.

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