“Welcome to the hotel of CALIFORNIA!!!” Abe belted out bringing his hand to his chest and stretching out his other arm as if to share his SP larger with the rest of his few but amused audience on the Karaoke stage at a local Port Moresby haunt.
Under an old and dusty disco ball in the midst of the dark and smoke filled room two local girls swayed to the music on the dance floor trying to make eye contact with the Abe in hope of their next meal ticket but to him they were all a blur.
“Such a LOVELY PLACE!!!” Abe shouted into the microphone in an off beat drunken note.
“Such a lovely place!” he sobbed clutching the microphone as if trying to hold onto his wife who had left him for another man. Abe stumbled on the stage over the cord forcing her photo to fall out of his shirt pocket but the microphone stand managed to save him, his head bowed seeing his wife with anguish through his brown wavy fringe flopped over his sweaty, sunburnt face.
While tears of pain poured from his empty well he screamed at the photo “this could be heaven or this could be HELLLLLLLLLL!” The barman gave out a whistle.
Four older expats with women half their age at the bar cheered and clapped as if they really knew where he was coming from.
“…we are all just prisoners here of our own device…” sung Abe shaking his head in despair finishing his performance with a projectile vomit over the two local lasses across the dance floor. It was not the meal they were quite expecting.
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