He would begin every morning with a serenade to the beautiful girl in the window. He hoped she would join him in his little song of love, but before she could, the hip cricket would interrupt with his abstract atonal saxophone solos. The solos would go on forever until the owner of the music store would arrive to open for business. Perhaps the next time he would try a midnight serenade. He had no idea that at midnight the cricket's solos were the wildest. Sadly, he also did not know that the beautiful girl in the window liked things a little wild.