No second chances in the land of a thousand dances

epub or mobi, with thanks to the original sharer

The band followed him onstage. He adjusted the microphone. “Es una canción muy sencilla, and it’s been berry good to us here. “Loco Amor.” One, two, threes, quatro.” Clink-­clink-­clink­-clink­-clink­-clink, went the piano. To-­to-­to-­ta-­to-­to went the drums, a slow-­dance bag. Six over four in a minor key. The place got quiet.

            Este, este, loco amor. En la sangre, me hierve

            No puedo estar, no puedo estar sin tu amor

            Este, este loco amor. El amor de mi vida

            No puedo estar, no puedo estar sin tu amor

            Es loco amor, lo que en mi corazón, siento por ti

            Toma, toma, todo mi amor, amorcito querido,

            No puedo estar, no puedo estar sin tu amor

            Loco amoooor, loooocoooo amooor

Crazy love. It’s in the blood. I’m going crazy, I can’t make it without your crazy love. Johnny got on the title phrase and wouldn’t stop: “Loco, loco, loco, loco por tu amor.” He started crying, he pulled his hair. He fell on his knees clutching the microphone stand in both hands. He was doubled up in pain. He gasped, he shook. “Loco, loco, loco, tan loco ...” He raised his head. Tears of grief rolled down his face. The band pushed at him, they worked him. The out-­of-­tune piano pounded, the spacey guitar jangled. The Filipinos banged their glasses down hard and whistled.

Then Betty made her move. She strolled across the stage and stood over Johnny, brandishing the horsewhip. He looked up and whimpered, “Loca?” and she brought the whip down. He screamed, “Loco!” and the whip came down again and again. The bolero jacket came apart each time and her tits popped. The Filipinos went mad. They rushed the stage, they threw money — bills, change, whatever they had that they weren’t going to need later.