Karaoke Night

One time, you woke up in your clothes from the night before, your car keys on the nightstand with a glass of water you don’t remember pouring for yourself. A headache. The unpleasant taste of white wine left out too long and air moving back and forth over your tongue through the night. You got fucking shit-house that night, didn’t you?

Yeah.

You show up to your friend’s birthday party in the bar of the local chinese place you’ve been going to your whole life. You had numerous family dinners there, and a few birthdays. Remember that time you found a stray cat and brought it into the restaurant to share some crab rangoons with you and your friends in your elementary school days? Well times have changed, my friend. And these times involved substances that can fuck you up. You know this, and this is why you chose to take it easy tonight! You don’t want to be “that” girl/guy that gets so wasted they need to be driven home in their own car, blathering on about how scummy they feel about having this happen to THEM because of the choices THEY made. No, not at all, not you. Not tonight.

So yeah, you step in and order a glass of Pinot Grigio. You’re hugging friends you haven’t seen in far too long, chatting it up, laughing, hemming and hawing over the slack-jawed garbage going on up at the karaoke stand. It’s par for the course, naturally. You flip through the pages, pick out a substantially AWESOME Def Leppard number and belt it out, unabashed. Hair flying all over the place, bringing it like a way, waaaaaaay less talented Pat Benetar (vocal wise, obv., you BROUGHT it). You’re the shit! You’ve got balls, and people are into it. So you sit down, figure out what you wanna do next. “None of Your Business” with one of your girls? Damn right! Hold on, you need another glass of wine. You go up to the bar, order it, drink some…

Wake up at your apartment. WTF?!

Luckily, some friends filled you in:

– You did, indeed, get up to sing “None of Your Business” with your dear, dear friend who in fact, knew all the words. You, unfortunately, did not, and were too belligerent/proud to read the monitor and so proceeded to yell over and over into the microphone “YEAH! FUCK YOU, IT’S NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS!!”.

– You fall asleep briefly on the party’s table and then abruptly awoke only to run to the stage, steal the mic from some unsuspecting patron singing who knows what, and doing a death metal growl for the horrified crowd.

– You were addressed by one of the offended geriatric parties and reminded “What kind of establishment this is”.

– You ran into the bathroom, crying about a surgery that’s to be performed on you in a weeks time. Were then confronted by a woman whom, in an attempt to comfort you, told you about her skull fracture, miscarriage, and divorce that had all taken place within the year only to relay back that your surgery, that you were so upset and worried about was for… your shoulder.

– Were escorted out of the back of the hosting establishment because you were screaming at your friends that you needed to “practice driving this way” and the bartenders were staring (along with everyone else).

– Were driven home while you were talking gibberish, tucked in, given a glass of water, and left to fall asleep.

Yeah, no, don’t worry about it dude. We’ve all been there.

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5 responses to “Karaoke Night

  1. First post!

  2. Been there! Still love you!

  3. Thanks for coming out for my birthday. Hahaha. ❤
    Aren't you glad you have friends like me and Adrienne, who will get you home and tuck you in! ❤ ❤ ❤

  4. I like the style of this post. This is my favorite piece that I’ve read on here so far.

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