Legs

“Get a job, hippie”



Sitting inside the walkways of your typical city subway, a pretty young lady with dark hair and bass guitar scoffed as her insulter walked away.



“I have a job, douche. I just do this for fun on my off days.”



Well, that was one of the reasons she did it. The other reason came by right on time.



“Same time everyday.”



She didn’t know her name. No, she was too much of a wuss to talk to her. Besides, a busy lady on her way to work probably wouldn’t give some random street musician the time of day.



“Man, she’s pretty...”



Always walking by in her professional suits. She had legs for days. The first time she saw her, she had to resist the urge to drool.



“One day, soon.”



Well, that day was coming sooner than expected.



“Hey, come back here!”



Some punk ran past her, grabbing her purse and taking off. Right in Marceine’s direction. She set her guitar aside, quickly standing in his way.



“No so fast, dingus! Give the gorgeous lady her purse back before I-”



She was interupted by a martial arts sounding scream. And got to witness those legs launch her crush off the ground and kick the mugger in the face. Sending him launching past Marceline, as she gracefully landed on her feet.



“Hey, thanks for stopping him.”



She picked her purse up, straightening her hair a little.



“Hey, I know you! You’re the singer in that band...the Scream Queens! I saw you play the Candy Kingdom Club last week. You rule.”



Marcie’s jaw dropped. Not only was her nameless crush a certified ass-kicker, she knew her music too.



“I...um...oh, forget it. I’ll just say it. Dude, you are so hot. I come down here when I get the chance, hoping I can get your attention. I even wrote a song called ‘Legs’ cause...um..”



She giggled.



“I was hoping you’d notice. I usually wear pants, but I hoped my nice skirts would get the attention of this gorgeous street musician. My name is Bonnie, by the way...oh, breadballs. I gotta get to work.”



She reached into her purse, handing her a business card.



“My number, sweet thing. Call me sometime.”



She winked and quickly took off before she missed her train. Marceline was left standing there dumbfounded. Behind her, the mugger oddly smiled.



“Damn. I’m a matchmaker.”