now?”
For a woman in her fifties, Betty had game.
“Not even, but, wow, now I get why he’s popular around here.”
He barged between the women and sat, placing his elbows on the bar.
She turned her gaze to her drink and made as though she hadn’t been just staring at his crotch.
“Dolly and Sandra got back from their trip.” He edged his hand dangerously close to hers. “Banging on and on like they’ve been at a five-star all-inclusive in the Bahamas when they were two-star self-catering in Rhyl . Hilarious. Oh, those two. No wonder their husbands let them off the leash for two weeks. Blimey.”
Edging back, Zoe thought fast and gripped her camera. “Smile.”
She clicked several times, hoping he’d feel uncomfortable with the camera love and leave. What was she thinking? David loved attention.
He cocked his head and winked, posing for the lens.
Betty cleared her throat. “Haven’t you got something you’d like to ask David?”
Zoe lowered the camera and shook her head. “I think I’ll get this party started.” She excused herself and joined the sound technician at the singing area, making a quick escape from the cheeseball.
The sound technician was decked out in old, oil-stained overalls, which contrasted with his new neon yellow sneakers and backward baseball cap. He jammed his finger up his nostril and hooked it right in there as if digging for dollar notes to feed strippers.
“Let’s get the party started, as they say. So how does one host karaoke?” she asked the man, who was still picking for boogers.
“Dunno. I play the songs, and that’s it, innit, love.” His accent was the strongest she’d heard yet, and she barely made out his words. Dylan had been right when he’d told Rhiannon not to use slang. The language short cut of “innit” did make him seem a lot less educated. He wiped his nose across his sleeve.
“You should take something for that,” she offered, trying not to cringe.
“Allergies,” he confirmed, and sniffed up hard and hocked up a nasty. “Nothing helps, innit.”
”Antihistamines?” What in tarnation had Betty gotten her into?
“Nah, don’t work.” He snorted back mucus. “So how do you wanna do this?”
“Have you got a list of songs?” she asked, scared he’d say yes and pass it to her with the grubby fingers he’d used to search his nose.
“ Ia , Flo has been circulating them. Last I heard she had a list of what folk wanna sing, innit.”
“Good. Lists are good.”
She called Flo over, and they went over the game plan. And the list.
“Are these really the only songs we have to work with?” Zoe re-scanned the long row of song titles, searching for something modern. Nada. The newest songs were from the early 90s. Of course, this was common for karaoke. Most of the more popular tunes were older ones. The classics, as they say.
“It’s the same one we use every year. Got all the favorites on it, see.” The woman pointed to several songs that, although they were old, were the most popular karaoke songs to her knowledge.
“It’ll have to do.” Zoe spotted a couple of power ballads that she knew well.
“You should hear Dylan sing Bon Jovi.” Flo sighed. “Dreamy.”
“I look forward to it.”
They had ten guests ready to sing their hearts out.
David was up first. Of course.
He squalled out his rendition of “Living on a Prayer . ”If she glanced away, he reminded her of the American rock star. He had the gritty voice down pretty well.
Betty waved her back to the bar, and she scurried to her, happy to rejoin her beer.
David winked toward Zoe and ran his tongue over his lips and thrust hard. Like he needed to draw attention to his big dick?
And that’s where he lost the little sexy points he had earned before. What a douche .
“This is totally going in my article,” Zoe said.
Dylan’s voice boomed from behind her. “He’s winking at you, Chantilly. At least, I think he’s winking at you. It could be his own
For a woman in her fifties, Betty had game.
“Not even, but, wow, now I get why he’s popular around here.”
He barged between the women and sat, placing his elbows on the bar.
She turned her gaze to her drink and made as though she hadn’t been just staring at his crotch.
“Dolly and Sandra got back from their trip.” He edged his hand dangerously close to hers. “Banging on and on like they’ve been at a five-star all-inclusive in the Bahamas when they were two-star self-catering in Rhyl . Hilarious. Oh, those two. No wonder their husbands let them off the leash for two weeks. Blimey.”
Edging back, Zoe thought fast and gripped her camera. “Smile.”
She clicked several times, hoping he’d feel uncomfortable with the camera love and leave. What was she thinking? David loved attention.
He cocked his head and winked, posing for the lens.
Betty cleared her throat. “Haven’t you got something you’d like to ask David?”
Zoe lowered the camera and shook her head. “I think I’ll get this party started.” She excused herself and joined the sound technician at the singing area, making a quick escape from the cheeseball.
The sound technician was decked out in old, oil-stained overalls, which contrasted with his new neon yellow sneakers and backward baseball cap. He jammed his finger up his nostril and hooked it right in there as if digging for dollar notes to feed strippers.
“Let’s get the party started, as they say. So how does one host karaoke?” she asked the man, who was still picking for boogers.
“Dunno. I play the songs, and that’s it, innit, love.” His accent was the strongest she’d heard yet, and she barely made out his words. Dylan had been right when he’d told Rhiannon not to use slang. The language short cut of “innit” did make him seem a lot less educated. He wiped his nose across his sleeve.
“You should take something for that,” she offered, trying not to cringe.
“Allergies,” he confirmed, and sniffed up hard and hocked up a nasty. “Nothing helps, innit.”
”Antihistamines?” What in tarnation had Betty gotten her into?
“Nah, don’t work.” He snorted back mucus. “So how do you wanna do this?”
“Have you got a list of songs?” she asked, scared he’d say yes and pass it to her with the grubby fingers he’d used to search his nose.
“ Ia , Flo has been circulating them. Last I heard she had a list of what folk wanna sing, innit.”
“Good. Lists are good.”
She called Flo over, and they went over the game plan. And the list.
“Are these really the only songs we have to work with?” Zoe re-scanned the long row of song titles, searching for something modern. Nada. The newest songs were from the early 90s. Of course, this was common for karaoke. Most of the more popular tunes were older ones. The classics, as they say.
“It’s the same one we use every year. Got all the favorites on it, see.” The woman pointed to several songs that, although they were old, were the most popular karaoke songs to her knowledge.
“It’ll have to do.” Zoe spotted a couple of power ballads that she knew well.
“You should hear Dylan sing Bon Jovi.” Flo sighed. “Dreamy.”
“I look forward to it.”
They had ten guests ready to sing their hearts out.
David was up first. Of course.
He squalled out his rendition of “Living on a Prayer . ”If she glanced away, he reminded her of the American rock star. He had the gritty voice down pretty well.
Betty waved her back to the bar, and she scurried to her, happy to rejoin her beer.
David winked toward Zoe and ran his tongue over his lips and thrust hard. Like he needed to draw attention to his big dick?
And that’s where he lost the little sexy points he had earned before. What a douche .
“This is totally going in my article,” Zoe said.
Dylan’s voice boomed from behind her. “He’s winking at you, Chantilly. At least, I think he’s winking at you. It could be his own
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