The buzzer rang to Melvin’s alarm on his phone. He could barely open his eyes. His arms and legs were stiff and aching. His mouth dry and he’s in desperate need of hydration. His penthouse suite was trashed and women naked slept all over his bed and his floor. Melvin was himself, wedged in the floor beside the bed. Two very attractive women lay next to him wrapped around one another.
It’s early morning, must be six. The phone to his room rang. He reached above him on the nightstand and pulled the receiver down, “hell…hello,”
“Oh Melvin baby! Let’s get it shaking baby! Big day ahead of us! Watch out! Oh damn! Today the world is gonna scream your name baby!”
“Who is this?” Melvin still wasn’t sure what planet he was on.
“Melvin, it’s Arthur, Arthur Berg, your agent. Take a shower we got things…big big things baby!”
“Oh hey, yeah…yeah,” Melvin looks around at the hedonistic display of lust in his room, “Yeah, I’m up.”
“Alright, alright! Take a shower! Get dressed! Big happenings baby! I’m sending a car for ya.”
Melvin put the phone on the ground and peeled himself up off the floor. He brushed a skinny model arm off of him and got up. He, like the two dozen unconscious females littered along his floor and bed, was naked. He grabbed a cigarette out of his coat hanging on the light shade.
He tiptoes and crisscrosses over and around naked big haired women. The only thing they wore was some smeared lipstick and gaudy jewelry.
Melvin walked onto the terrace of his penthouse suite overlooking Buenos Aires. It’s the Latin America leg of his Peace Be to Love Tour. It hasn’t been easy. He misses his kid. The tour started four months ago in New York City and it’s been a nonstop hit fest.
The sun was shining and life was all around bustling below him on the streets. He finished his cigarette and made his way over through the pussy jungle that fills his suite. A tall blonde was laying against the bathroom door, he managed to wedge the door open enough to slide himself into the marble floored bathroom where several other naked women slept. Make up smeared and one you can tell had thrown up during the night.
The shower is cold. He needs it though. His whole body tightens and his heart beat jumps from the chill, then relaxes as he wakes up.
In minutes he is out of the shower and fumbling through his penthouse attempting to dress himself, the women in his room move and curl like he is standing in a giant serpent pen. If he isn’t careful he could wake the swarm and never get out of there alive.
He tosses on a sleek maroon suit with a white shirt. He chose to not wear a tie. Too hot in Argentina for a tie.
Melvin slipped into a pair of matching maroon loafers, lit another cigarette, checked his watch, put on a pair of classic ray ban’s and climbed along the furniture toward the door of the penthouse suite. He took one last look at the wrecked hotel room and all the sleeping snakes still entangled amongst each other and closed the door to the chaos aftermath.