Guitar Package Guru

It was nine o’clock on a Tuesday evening and Sheila was already running late. Her boyfriend’s rock band took the stage at quarter ’til the hour and now she had missed his opening song – the one he wrote for her many years ago. Her heart raced as she jogged down the sidewalk – high heels and all – her bangle bracelets jingled with each swift swing of her arm. Only four more blocks she thought.

Once she made it to Frankie’s Dive Bar, she flashed her driver’s license to the doorman and hustled inside. Paul and the rest of the band were already in the middle of their set, she could tell by the guitar chords. As she made her way to the front of the stage she was nearly blinded by the show lasers and coughed at the smoke machine’s deep fog. Suddenly Paul became visible; she knew it was him because of the green electric guitars strapped to his body. Yes, he always carried two onstage as he was known to snap a string here and there. He saw her too, looked down and smiled as their eyes met. She knew it was all going to be alright.