After a late-night out of singing at a karaoke bar with my friend, I woke up on a Saturday morning to find that there was nothing to eat. It was my first time at a karaoke bar, and one of my friends wondered if I was truly Asian since I had never had the experience before. Did I enjoy it? Heck, yes! I screeched until my voice sounded hoarse like a pirate captain who had been ordering his shipmates all day. It was not so easy. Every time I had finished one song, an instruction came on the screen that said, “Practice makes perfect.”

“You can shut it!” I responded to the inanimate voice. I was annoyed because I wasn’t very good at it. Still, I admit that I did feel like a rockstar for a brief moment. I had pizazz and style. I held onto the mic and worked it. I gave it my soul and energy. It did feel liberating. And besides, the private room felt comfortable. I laid down on the couch when my friend sang and told her, “This room is so cool … you can make out in a place like this.” She giggled at my comment. Sadly, we didn’t have anyone to make out with, which wasn’t so bad because I did not feel it.

Instead of a “hottie” to smooch around with, I had something better. You pressed on a button in the room, and a cute server appeared. We requested for whiskeys and he popped instantly with our drinks. I ate heavy vegetable pancakes for dinner that settled down in my stomach like concrete. I needed something to cut through it like—whiskey. Fantastic! When you could sing and drink whiskey, there was no need to feel the “need.” Life was good … at least until you wake up and discover that you didn’t have any breakfast to eat with the instant cup of coffee. I used to joke that I wanted to become a bohemian, but I never dreamed that I would find myself as a bohemian—starving writer.

There were, however, two nectarines on my desk. Even squirrels cannot live on nuts alone, squirrels may desire a change of pace too. The only thing that I could think of that would not spoil was the nectarine. Why the nectarine and not the peach? Well, the peaches need to be peeled while the nectarines could simply be washed before eating. I love peaches but don’t love the fuzzy skin. It felt as if I was chewing on a creature when I was eating the unpeeled peach. Yet, nectarine and coffee did not go well together. They were not good friends. So, I had to drink coffee without any food. The nectarines were left uneaten on the table. What do you do with the uneaten nectarines? You could paint them as a cubistic painting or eat them when there is no dinner to be found. Such is the life of a bohemian squirrel.