Couldn't work today. Dragged Handel to Kepong to see May, the girl without a Norwegian Wood.

She shows up looking like a Murakami paperback left out in the rain.

"What's your plastic?" she asks.

I nearly slap my credit card on the counter like I am in Tokyo jazz club.

No scent of Green Papaya tonight, just Tiger beer and cheap Scott whisky.

Even the papaya farm was closed.

I grab the mic, sing Jacky Cheung , pretend the stage is mine.

Halfway through,

Macau flashes in my head that the concert camera panned the crowd, just missing me.

If it had caught Rain and me, I'd have been Andy Brown at a Coldplay gig except my Kristin Cabot was younger, pretties and cost me a few hundred million in life time emotional damage.

Now, I'm left with three 20-cent pieces, a lonely 10-cent coin, and one rusty arcade token from 2008.

The Smurf coinbox rattles like a tiny coffin.

Should I buy another Tiger or offer it to a temple as payment for my sins?

Handel butchers "One Night in Macau." sounding like Mike Tyson on karaoke.

I laugh too loud, spin my stool until the room blurs.

Then genius or madness strikes.

I try to smoke 60 cigarettes like Murakami before he got famous.

By the third stick the waitress threatens to throw me out, the fourth burns my fingers, and by fifth I'm coughing so hard the next table offers me Fisherman's Friend.

Maybe Murakami didn't become a writer, maybe he just became smoke.

The lights snap on.

No blue hulks this time, just Ant-Man, the tiny manager, squeaking.

"Please go home before the hulks come"

I stomp to the mamak stall, thumb hovering over my phone.

Still no reply from Rain.

"I should have gotten her pregnant," I tell Handel

"At least then she couldn't have a baby with another man."

He nearly spits his Milo.

"You're crazy," he says.

"This isn't Moby dick. You're not Captain Ahab chasing the Great White....Baby."

But I'm already typing the ultimate terms:

If you don't reply by midnight, I'll delete everything, your photo, your WeChat, my bank transfers, even my memories. Full Jim Carrey. Eternal Sunshine.