Singapore Swing

“If I didn’t know otherwise, I would think you two were on your honeymoon. Other people look out of the window or at their phones, but you two are so interested in each other.”

Well, Singapore just got a whole lot better!

Sometimes you just have to say fuck it, spend the day drinking $24 pints by the infinity pool of a luxury cruise-liner that is mounted across the rooftops of three, fifty-seven-storey skyscrapers and spontaneously check yourself into a $600-a-night hotel with floating tropical gardens. Woops.

In our swanky room we do some naked dancing on the king size bed that overlooks some world bank. We are both pleased that the items in the mini-bar are not clearly priced. This is tomorrow’s problem. We’ve not had any blozzer action for a while because we’ve been sharing a hostel room with thirteen other people. But today, ladies and gentleman, we are getting jiggy. We’re interrupted. Now, you can take us out of Armley, but despite the surroundings, when room service arrives, it’s pizza, Sprite and a can of Tiger.

And here we lay, in these wonderful white sheets, warming up for our champagne breakfast. Tuesday morning has been more exciting than normal for the staff on the 13th floor of Great Eastern opposite. They have just been welcomed into the day with a full-frontal, courtesy de moi, as I raise the electric blind.

“Come on love, there’s some G.H.Mumm, smoked salmon and comte with our name on in the Orchid Club Lounge.”

Thanks for reading
2 Metre Peter



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