twenty-one
Once the braid was firmly in her hair, Rose paid the cheerful woman and they headed towards a pub-restaurant which was blaring live music. Rose felt her spirits deflate as she read a sign signifying there was karaoke every night at this particular establishment. But Marian, Shelly and the guys seemed excited by the idea of embarrassing themselves in front of a large group of strangers. Except for Tom, who was looking like she felt – aghast at the prospect. They settled at a pale plastic table which was chipped and covered in minute pieces of rock salt. A waitress sped walked towards them, disinfected cloth in hand.
“What can I get you guys?” she shouted, above the din of the live disco.
The women decided on another round of cocktails, while the men ordered bottled beer.
