Louie always said that he'd never met a woman that daylight was kind to. From my vantage point in the corner of the room, this woman didn't look to be any different. The humans slept, but I waited like I did every day. Louie would bring me home from the club just as morning was breaking, and prop me in my stand in the corner so he could attend to that night's conquest. I would wait for dusk.

Over the space of an hour, the humans grew increasingly restless. Muffled snores gave way to stretches and yawns, then a hand with it's laquered nails fell over Louie's chest. It was always the same, they never learned.
"Hi baby, how about some breakfast."
Louie's bloodshot eyes open and he stares blankly at the long-limbed creature inhabiting his bed. In slow motion, Louie rolls to sit on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees, and the heel of his hands grinding mercilessly into his eye sockets. The woman curls her knees up behind him, modestly tucking the sheet up under her arms. The small amount of daylight that filtered in behind the curtains gave this scene a sad air.

The first clouds roll over the woman's face. Now, I'm only a guitar, I don't know the workings of humans and their attractions, but it always amazes me how they know change is inevitable, yet they shink from it like it was raw liver. Doris, I think her name was Doris, was a cigarette girl at the club. All polish and shine until now. Her fingernails still clung to ruby red, but the coiffed and sprayed hair of last night stuck out now in uneven spikes. Her brilliant blue eyeshadow stained the pillowcases, and as she struggled to extract a cigarette from the pack on the headboard, her hands shook.

Louie took the cigarette from her, drew a long breath, and passed it back to her. A faint smile of something shared creased the womans face, but then Louie flatly told her to leave. He turned the taps on in the shower, and left the bathroom door open. The steam was so thick I could feel my pegs tighten. Doris stared at her knees for a second, and I could see her shoulders fall. I could feel her staring at me from across the room well before I felt her approach. She sat crosslegged on the floor before me. One laquered nail reached out to pluck a string, but she paused as if she'd thought better of it. I could almost see her thoughts, like one of theose news reels at the picture show. Everyone moving jerkily in black and white. All her imaginings of every woman who had fallen prey to Louie. Blonds, brunettes, redheads.. he bent their heart stings just like she was about to do to mine.

Louie's tenor came through the steam. The great booming voice that belied his delicacy. No one could sway the girls like Louie. Doris cringed at the first sound of his voice, then a faint smile danced across her face. She stood up, letting the sheet drop from around her, and she walked naked to Louie's desk. She began rummaging through the drawers until she found what she was looking for. She turned to me with a pair of scissors that could cut a Studebaker in half, and slowly walked my way. Louie sang in the shower while Doris did me in.
I ask her come her baby and she says no no (plang)
I ask her drive me here, she says drive your own (twang)
She likes to race my motor then slam my hood (thwing)
She makes me feel good, she makes me feel good (thonk-planck- twing)

That woman was smiling as she gathered her things. My strings curled around my frets like Medusa's hair. Doris calmly placed the scissors back where she found him, and locked the door on her way out.