Marry Me Gloria

The club was dark, smoky, and usually crowded on Thursday night. Ray Ray stood on the stage looking out into the expectant audience, sweat appearing on his brow. Gloria, the only cocktail waitress strong enough to talk to him while he was stressed, walked up, tray in hand.

"What do I tell them? Danny Joe didn't show up again tonight," he whispered, covering the microphone with his hand.

Gloria whispered back, "Well, you have no choice. You have to tell them the truth—sorry folks, no music tonight."

The Witz End, a staple in downtown Baltimore since 1932, offered live music every Thursday night, as shown on posters around town. Ray Ray, never one to disappoint a crowd, was sweating. Gloria, figuring she'd do it for him, stepping up to the microphone.

A sudden light in the dim saloon from an open door caught Gloria's attention before she cancelled the show. A young man walked through the saloon to the stage, guitar case in hand. For some reason, watching him walk through the club made Gloria pause cancelling the music. He was dressed in a white T-shirt with faded jeans, a pair of old flip-flops on his feet. His bright blue eyes smiled at her, his curly black hair was cut short, she guessed he was about her age, mid-twenties.

"I'm sorry I was late," he said, winking at her, coming up on stage pausing to kiss Gloria on the cheek. Dumbfounded, all she did was stare.

Ray Ray looked at the stranger, controlling the surprise on his face. He stepped back, gesturing to the chair with a microphone. "Have at it...uh..."

"Dell," the young man said walking to the chair. "Dell Grayson."

Ray Ray looked at the young man, hoping the guitar case he carried held a guitar and that meant he could play it, turned to the crowd, "Please welcome Dell Grayson to the Witz End.! Are you ready for some music tonight?"

YYYEEEAHHH!

Gloria stood next to the stage, jaw on the floor. The name sounded familiar, she couldn't put her finger on it. Shocked that Ray Ray trust some random guy saying he could play, leaned over whispering, "Who the hell is he? What if he can't play the guitar?" The crowd of the Witz End enjoyed the reputation of getting pretty ugly if the music was lousy.

Ray Ray covered the microphone. "What do we have to lose? Danny Joe has stood us up for the last time. If Dell Grayson sounds the same or better, he's got a job."

Dell stood next to the chair, taking the guitar out of the case (Ray Ray breathing a sigh of relief there was a guitar,) sat down, positioning the guitar in his lap.

Gloria held her breath, her fingers gripping the cocktail tray tightly.

Dell's hands hesitated. Glancing up from the chair, he looked straight into her eyes, smiled, then started.

His first song was a Little Feat classic, "Dixie Chicken." The crowd, open to the song, started clapping with it. Rather than booing the new guitar player, everyone went back to business.

Gloria exhaled slowly, watching Dell play, his fingers moving over the strings. When he finished the song, he looked over to her, winked, then went onto something else everyone remembered, an old Eagles' song.

Dell played for three hours, stopping once, asking Gloria for a bottle of water. He knew Little Feat, Allman Brothers, Eagles (getting a huge roar from the crowd,) finishing his final set as Gloria walked through taking last call.

At the end of his final set, he hit a major chord on the guitar gathering everyone's attention, yelling into the microphone, "Marry me, Gloria!"

Gloria almost dropped a tray of drinks to the floor, every eye in the bar turned to her. What the hell? She felt a strange pang, like a déjà vu, simply laughing. "I will when you grow up, Dell."