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Tango Noire

Jane Candace Bullard

Acknowlegements to Minnesota Public Radio and Garrison Keillor's "Prairie Home Companion".  Also, Susana Miller.

Narrator:  It was another dark and stormy night in the Big City. Cold rain fell on grey concrete as a thousand feet hurried toward their destinies.  A thousand stories waiting to be told.  A thousand lonely souls waiting for a hand to hold.  A city that knows how to keep its secrets.  But one hombre is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions...  Che Noir, Private Eye.

sfx:  rain, footsteps, door opening and closing, 'el Choclo' (A. Villaldo) softly

Chica:  See Che, it's just like I told ya.  We can sit right here at this little table with the red roses.  'N' lookit those sweet little candles.

Che:  Ah, Chica it's ok.  But I'm just not sure I'm the one you want for this.  I mean, I'd be glad to help you find that library book you lost last week but I don't know, Chica.  I mean, tango dancing?

Chica:  Ah Che, just listen to that music!  Don't it speak to ya?  Don'tcha hear the romance cryin' out to your soul?  Don'tcha wanna transcend the ordinary?  To free yourself from the bonds of the material world and fly free through time and space, touchin' the infinite?

Che:  What was the name of that library book again? — Just look at these people, Chica — they're so suave, so sophisticated — the velvet, the fringe, the sequins — the low-cut necklines, the thigh-high cut skirts — the men in black.

Chica:  Don'tcha feel the magic, Che?  Of two souls entwined in the eternal dance —

Che:  Yea, they look pretty entwined to me.  Those stiletto heels could be considered unconcealed weapons in an uptown bar fight.

Chica:  It's food for the soul, Che.

Che:  Say, didn't you want to do a little shopping tonight?  The grocery store is open until 10, I think.  We could pick up some steaks, have a little late night snack —

Chica:  Don'tcha wanna be my hero, Che?  Take me in your arms and show me the universe?  Be the Sun King?

Che:  This is a democracy —

Chica:  — holdin' me close, feelin' my heart beatin' in your chest, my breath a soft caress against your cheek?

Che:  Ahhhh, pebeta —

sfx:  'Gallo Ciego' (A. Bardi) softly under, then swell up and out

Narrator:  It was a dark and stormy night in the Big City — a city that keeps its secrets.  Where two lonely hearts strive to beat as one.  Where one hombre is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions...  Che Noir, Private Eye.

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Jane Candace Bullard is a poet and publisher of Night Work Press. She was content being a waltz queen and hustle babe and had to be dragged into tango kicking and screaming. After the first five minutes, she knew her goose was cooked. She has been pursuing her new career as tango slut ever since.

Copyright © Jane Candace Bullard, 2003

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