Musical avenue (the sensation of schlager crossing)

Another bar, the same day. Always. The avenue is half-empty. Not always. I was sitting with my legs crossed. The way women usually cross their legs. My father also used to cross his legs like that, and he wasn’t a woman. So much for the crossing. Truth be told, a middle-aged woman was sitting at a table across from me, and her legs were crossed the way men cross them. Usually. I’m afraid all this crossing has nothing to do with music. The woman was looking through the window and out at the avenue. I had my back turned to everything outside. However, a song in a whole repertoire of Schlager music took center stage. None of the songs in the repertoire, I have to admit it to myself coldly, missed its mark. I want to know where love is… And so on, the way this type of music works, which is less important for the killer impression it leaves, only the refrain and the light melody (do not mistake it for easy), that’s how it goes. It’s actually a matter of math, but I’ve long since forgotten my multiplication tables and will not spoil longing melodies created by simple arithmetics because it is these melodies that made the mouth move on several people present in the bar. Glancing around carefully while under the spell of the melodious calculations, I noticed that the woman who was looking outside at the avenue, a man passing by - oh, how I caught his mouth move right when the refrain hit! - as well as the waiter behind the counter, maybe a few more people present in the bar, although perhaps a bit less clearly, but yes, they all sang silently those words from the title of the Schlager song. So much for the crossing, take two. You can trust me when I tell you that this is how it happened. And if you don’t believe the sensation I just described, knowing that such an intense sensation can only be described, nothing more, because you’re afraid that my deceitfulness has surfaced again, then walk the avenue yourself. Yes, if you haven’t gotten to know me by now… The woman looking out at the avenue and I are now both sitting with our legs crossed the way women usually cross them. Beware of the crossing.

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