Closing Time Serenade

The local supermarket owner, with his better than better prices and cheery misdemeanor, was singing at closing tonight. 

The staff smiled. I praised him. He may have been born in Spain but he was acting Italian.
On the way out I joined in with him, and he serenaded me as I span around and around, and we were in a spontaneous musical.
"People... who need people...." Streissand? 

He sang it better, if only because he sang it while I danced, in spite of feeling ugly, feeling like shit, feeling self-conscious; we made life a musical for a brief moment, and the street lights never shone so bright.