29-03-2019, 05:45 PM
"Oh, si," Vampire offered. "The ones she likes best, she puts iPad in basket, so when you see sexy woman or good-looking man in San Finzione with iPad, you know they special guests of La Contessa."
Demon was still staring at Julie. "I think maybe you both be getting new iPads soon." Everyone laughed, including Troy.
Troy eyed the darkened small stage with an empty microphone and a karaoke machine in the corner.
"Does that work," he asked the men at the table.
"Heh, always the touristas with the karaoke," Vampire laughed. "No, karaoke is only weekends. No exceptions."
The Raki had gotten to Troy's head a bit and he laid a 20 Euro note on the table. "This says they'll turn it on for me." Something about the good nature of the tourist who'd bought the last four rounds made all three men take out their wallets and lay their own cash down as well.
Troy got up and signaled the bartender. The three men at the table couldn't hear him from that distance, just saw the bartender nod in the negative, and then in the positive a couple of times before turning on the lights over the little stage. He walked back over to the table, wordlessly took their money, then walked over to Julie and gave her a slap on the ass before wobbling a little to the stage as the backup singers on the karaoke disc began singing the opening of Dean Martin's Mambo Italiano.
At her table, Julie motioned for the women seated with her to check out the stage. Troy grabbed the microphone right on cue for his first "Hey, Mambo, Mambo Italiano." He took the microphone off the stand and hopped off the stage, wandering through the tables like a lounge singer, reaching Julie's table in time to point the microphone at her and let her sing the like about trying an enchilada with a fishy baccala-la.
He sang his way back up to the stage and motioned for Julie to come up with him. She hopped out of her seat and joined him onstage in time to do a little tango during the instrumental. He gave her a little smooch before she returned to the table and he belted out the final verse. The room applauded as Troy took a bow.
"Thank you, everyone, thank you; Grazi, gracias, efharisto, merci. Ladies and Gentlemen, three weeks ago, I kept a promise I made at the age of four and went back home to marry the girl next door. Julie, stand up and take a bow." The room applauded as she did so. Troy continued.
"We'd planned to spend our honeymoon in our home town seeing old friends, but something... inspired us to come to San Finzione. And we'd like to have a word with you about it now. But first, show of hands, who here is with the security officer?"
Four hands raised around the room, including Vampire's. "Well, if you four would care to take a seat over at this table, I'd like to have a special word with you. Everyone else, if you'd remain at your seats; I mean, go to the washroom if you need to, but then come back; Julie will be coming around to talk to you and I'll be joining her as soon as I've finished my talk with local law enforcement. Until then, bartender, a round for the house!"
The crowd cheered as Troy left the stage and sat down with the security officer officers.
Demon was still staring at Julie. "I think maybe you both be getting new iPads soon." Everyone laughed, including Troy.
Troy eyed the darkened small stage with an empty microphone and a karaoke machine in the corner.
"Does that work," he asked the men at the table.
"Heh, always the touristas with the karaoke," Vampire laughed. "No, karaoke is only weekends. No exceptions."
The Raki had gotten to Troy's head a bit and he laid a 20 Euro note on the table. "This says they'll turn it on for me." Something about the good nature of the tourist who'd bought the last four rounds made all three men take out their wallets and lay their own cash down as well.
Troy got up and signaled the bartender. The three men at the table couldn't hear him from that distance, just saw the bartender nod in the negative, and then in the positive a couple of times before turning on the lights over the little stage. He walked back over to the table, wordlessly took their money, then walked over to Julie and gave her a slap on the ass before wobbling a little to the stage as the backup singers on the karaoke disc began singing the opening of Dean Martin's Mambo Italiano.
At her table, Julie motioned for the women seated with her to check out the stage. Troy grabbed the microphone right on cue for his first "Hey, Mambo, Mambo Italiano." He took the microphone off the stand and hopped off the stage, wandering through the tables like a lounge singer, reaching Julie's table in time to point the microphone at her and let her sing the like about trying an enchilada with a fishy baccala-la.
He sang his way back up to the stage and motioned for Julie to come up with him. She hopped out of her seat and joined him onstage in time to do a little tango during the instrumental. He gave her a little smooch before she returned to the table and he belted out the final verse. The room applauded as Troy took a bow.
"Thank you, everyone, thank you; Grazi, gracias, efharisto, merci. Ladies and Gentlemen, three weeks ago, I kept a promise I made at the age of four and went back home to marry the girl next door. Julie, stand up and take a bow." The room applauded as she did so. Troy continued.
"We'd planned to spend our honeymoon in our home town seeing old friends, but something... inspired us to come to San Finzione. And we'd like to have a word with you about it now. But first, show of hands, who here is with the security officer?"
Four hands raised around the room, including Vampire's. "Well, if you four would care to take a seat over at this table, I'd like to have a special word with you. Everyone else, if you'd remain at your seats; I mean, go to the washroom if you need to, but then come back; Julie will be coming around to talk to you and I'll be joining her as soon as I've finished my talk with local law enforcement. Until then, bartender, a round for the house!"
The crowd cheered as Troy left the stage and sat down with the security officer officers.
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