Secret Ambition.

When I was younger, I had this secret ambition. I wanted to do a stint as a lounge pianist. You know the type of place; glamorous, dress-up bar, where patrons dance slow, smoochy numbers on the dance-floor.

I would be playing the (grand) piano on a slightly raised platform, in the smoky, subdued lighting. (This appealed, regardless of the fact that I've always really hated smoke). I'd be in a sparkly evening-dress, with my hair up and falling down in little tendrils.

Back in the days when I wondered (as any girl does) where I would meet the love-of-my-life, I imagined that it would be there.
As it turned out, it was in a smoky, dimly-lit bar, but I definitely wasn't playing the piano at the time. The evening did, however, turn out to be much more memorable than I could ever have imagined.

Back to the piano, though. Thing is, A) we certainly didn't have the kind of stylish bar/ club needed in my own home town. Anything but. And B) sadly I was light-years away from the talent needed to perform to that calibre. Or no, not lacking in talent. I had, after all, taken over a decade of classical piano lessons. I was (fairly) accomplished at Mozart, Beethoven, Bach and the likes.
But I certainly didn't have a crowd-pleasing reportoire of popular songs from the 1950's, which I suspect may have been a prerequisite. Nor did I make work of acquiring one. Same old procrastinator as always. If there wasn't an exam or recital looming, I wasn't bothered.

These days, my secret ambition goes more about being able to walk in a straight line. But I haven't completely given up the pleasant fantasy of one day playing as Time Goes By in a Casablanca-esque style bar. Play it again, Sam, indeed. I hope I get to do this one day before I die.

And just in case, I'm working on my reportoire now...