A few sips of wine and a seat on the couch. They danced before me. Their dark bodies both masculine and feminine swayed to the live music. Drums, guitar, and even a cello. I couldn't see the piano player anywhere, but somehow I heard the melodic keys alongside the other instruments. I tapped my feet to the rhythm. I couldn't join them if I wanted. I just didn't fit in. The creator didn't make me a part of their picture. I was the obvious outsider. So I just watched. Wishing I could take part, I enjoyed the scenery. A few more sips. The music changed tunes. The sways of their bodies recalibrated to the new rhythm. The ladies drank martinis, and the gazes of the gentlemen grew as the women used their forever curves to seduce the wanting men. One of the ladies seemed to keep her eyes fixed on me. Whether I sat still or shuffled in my seat, she just stared. One hand was on her hip, the other midair, holding her clear glass with an olive floating in the middle. She posed before me with her silky long black dress and matching gloves that stretched elegantly to her elbows. I could tell I was never going to win the staring contest; I submitted to her endless gaze and looked away, taking another sip. I noticed the cello player. He was wearing a tall stiff collared, white button up shirt with a small black bow tie. He too stared, as his fingers caressed the elongated strings of the huge instrument until the rhythm again changed to a more relaxed and soothing groove. I found myself sleepily watching them party to the now slow tune. I decided to make my exit. My feet remained still, my body didn't budge from the comfortable couch cushion; but I left. The music slowly faded away. They continued to stare at me, unframed from their fixed place on my living room wall. Maybe I would go back again next weekend. I raised my glass to an air toast with the lady in the black dress who never broke her stare. “Cheers” I said out loud as she gazed back silently. I took another sip.