I tapped my cigarette against the ashtray on my table, flicking the grey particles off to create a small mountain of ash. I put the cigarette back in my mouth and watched the jazz musicians continue to play their slow yet powerful rhythms.
A black man in a nice-looking suit came up to the microphone. It made no sense to me how a colored man got that suit. Not that I cared.
He started to sing along, about some woman he met when he was younger. I chuckled to myself and propped my legs up on the table.
A woman in a dark red dress danced elegantly around some man. I watched her carefully.
“Fuck…” I whispered.
Her hair whipped around her lovely face and I couldn’t help but stare.
“Lucky guy.” I muttered, pressing my entire cigarette against the ashtray.