“And please bring your guest; we’d love to have him.” Woww, I got an invite to go to the American Embassy, Woww.… He stared at himself in the three-piece African outfit he had bought for the ambassador’s thang. It was so easy to get what you wanted if you had money. A trip downtown to feel out of place with the swarms of Ghanaian shoppers and peddlers. Brothers and sisters here will sell anything. A three-piece outfit, the kind he had seen African diplomats on TV wear. Eggshell blue with silver pin-stripes, sixteen thousand. He sipped a cold gin and wandered about the house, slipping glances at himself as he passed the mirrors in the front room and in the hallway. The people on Troas Street smiled and waved at him as he strolled up the street, looking for a taxi. He felt warm inside, a nice buzz warming his belly, filled with three straight neat gins and an ice-cold Guinness stout. Mrs. Stella, his next-door neighbor had gushed all over him. “Ahhhh, you must have a photo taken of yourself.
