Anyway, long story short I went out for some birthday karaoke with a few friends. A night out at karaoke can often be very lame. I love singing and having a good time and really, it’s all about shits and giggles. However, some people take themselves way too seriously and make total jackasses of themselves. It’s cheap entertainment at its finest.
Right from the start, it seemed the entire atmosphere of the bar was hostile. No one initially did or said anything, but I felt ‘something in the air.’
There was one “lady” in particular who sat with her trusty wingwoman and some dude (maybe two) in the booth right beside ours, who didn't take long to get the ball rolling. She looked to be in her late 30s, skunk highlights, shellacked-on makeup, and squeezed into a dress that women of a certain age should most certainly eschew. She’d likely knocked back a few by this time, and was feeling rather self-assured. The ‘roke host was being rather generous with her turns throughout the night. I wasn't bothered, really. I had hinted to him when I got there that it was my birthday (hell, I’ve spent many birthdays at one of his karaoke nights) in the hopes that he’d let me sing a double. After all, the bar wasn't busy at all. However, my plan had crashed and burned into a burning pit of Hell. Instead, Mr. Host went ahead and started a huge round of Happy Birthday, sparsely populated bar chiming in all the way. God. Damn. It.
I digress. The self-assured “lady” felt it necessary to start inflicting her little monologues upon the ‘crowd’ before and after every (frequent) song she went up to sing. We were all informed (loudly, through the mic) that she is the ONE with the VOICE….THE ONLY VOICE!!! Oy vey. She also decided to inflict some of her “original stuff” onto all of us. Now, I’ve tried singing my own songs here and there, but in that setting, it’s a hit or miss. I’m sorry to report, she missed. I was outside smoking (since it was my birthday I removed myself from every irritating situation possible, no matter how cold I was) but ‘my table’ was glad to fill me in.
Then, I finally got to sing. The self-assured “lady’s” male table-buddy, among others, called me over to voice their enjoyment (to which I’m always appreciative). She rolled her eyes and smacked her teeth with her wingwoman like it was keeping them alive. Cat-ty. The next time she went up to sing, either after myself or my friend, she made a comment to Mr. Host about how it must be so haaaaard to be a karaoke host. Seriously, woman. Nobody’s singing your praises but YOU, and your lack of subtly (much like that “dress”) smacks of desperation! Then, she and Host sang some cheesy, predictable, BORING duet. I can’t even remember what it was, I went back outside. I did listen long enough to feel complete and utter disappointment (on my birthday…that cold-hearted wretch). Remember; this is the VOICE. If you make a claim like that, gosh darn it, you’d better wow me. Back that shit up. She was flat and boring. How embarrassing.