Thursday, September 2, 2010

can we talk? er......sing?

ok, me again. 

i did something tonight that i realized i'd never done before, and at my age, that 's impressive.

i took a few days off from the blog, because, well, if you must know, i'm a good ways through chapter one of something bigger.  i'll keep you posted, i promise, and those of you that throw feedback, will get chapter one, with a simple request, which is.....  tell me if you care enough about the characters to want to see chapter 2.  not all of you will get it, to be in my test group, just some of you.  i think you probably know who you are, don't you?  oh well.

but back to tonight's event.

we were going to cook dinner, as we almost always do on a weeknight, but husband is at the tail end of a mission, and i've been working on my business, and of course on the above mentioned chapter one, so it was a long day.  i skipped my afternoon swim and both of us were busy til way late, like 8ish.  so husband suggested, let's just go out for a bite, to one of our favorite haunts, and grab a burger. 

fine with me.

so off we go, grab a table, snag a very cute waiter, which is kind of lucky because the wait staff at that place tends to be young girls that look like they eat way too much of the barbeque menu, and it's always fun for two older gay men to get a cute young waiter.  after all, we're going to eat anyway, right?  and we order.  i'm expediting here, because i want to cut to the chase.  as we wait, he brings us the monster pitcher of beer for $5.00 special and we sit a very few minutes, and suddenly appears a handsome guy, across a crowded room, (i know, sounds like south pacific, right?) and i'm thinking he's a d.j. and they've started a new thing on wednesday nights. 

fine with me. 

so as he, i think, is spinning, i hear a very pleasant singer that i don't recognize and i'm impressed with the nice music, and we're sipping our beer, and i glance over and, gasp, clutch the pearls, he's not spinning, he's actually singing.  and it's very good.  it's billy joel's new york state of mind, which can be a tough song, and the guy nailed it.  (and i'm one who knows, remember?).  so i'm impressed and i'm thinking, how nice, they hired an entertainer while we dine. 

well, not a moment later, someone else is singing and it's also nice, so,

fine with me.

our food arrives and our attention span wanders as we plunge into burgers, brisket, bbq, and pulled pork.  as we dine, yet another person takes the stage, and with a mouthful of smoked turkey i say to husband, oh shit, we stumbled into karaoke night. 

now the confession at the top was, i did something tonight i've never done, which is, believe it or not, karaoke.  oh, i've been to restaurants where starving actors sing as they wait tables, and they're usually good, as they're really professional performers that haven't gotten their breaks yet, and i've been to gay bars where every queen that ever sucked a cock thinks she's judy garland and gets up to sing, and quite frankly, most of them are very good as well.  (all part of being a queen). so i didn't really know actual karaoke, until tonight.

so, as mentioned, the first guy was good.  and the second, darn good as well.  this karaoke might not be as bad as everyone says it is, which is,

fine with me.

then, lady number one.  a tad zaftig, in way too tight pants, sang a song i didn't recognize and some of the lower notes were kind of in tune, but her falsetto notes wandered.........not sure where to.  maybe she'll find them after she has another beer...........

less fine.

lady number two.  a pretty girl with big knockers (and in a sports bar, so she got a round of applause, replete with hooting and hollering before she even began to sing) and the crowd was kind, even though she was borderline bad.

guy number three.  a fat bald guy, who not only looked like he didn't belong on a stage, but after he began to sing, my mind wandered to dr. kevorkian, and i wondered if he still made house calls.

girl number three.  yet another chubbette who thought that standing on a chair, and then sitting on a restaurant table with one thick thigh in the air would help.  alas it didn't.

guy number four.  a toupe that made more noise than the karaoke machine.  i'm sucking down my third beer at this point, licking the barbeque sauce off my fingers.  anything to take my attention away from the "event".

not fine at all anymore.  i'm eyeing the exit signs.

girl number four.  a woman in a wheelchair, excuse me, an OLD woman in a wheelchair singing elvis' my way, too hideous for words.  the woman couldn't walk, what made her think she could sing?  she probably saw that susan hayward movie, with a song in my heart, about poor crippled jane froman, who actually could sing, and built a career on it, on stage, screen and television,  before she became crippled in an airplane crash.  all i could think of as i watched that horrible singer was let's play achille lauro, and push this bitch into the ocean before she sings again.

finally, we're done eating, and the cutie brings the check, and as i'm waiting for the return of the credit card,  guy number one takes the mike again to sing another billy joel song, and again he's terrific.  he finishes to a nice round of applause and suddenly, the rolling wonder woman is about to take the stage again, and we hurry toward the exit.  on the way out, i grab, the billy joel guy and tell him he's better than the rest, and to find a better crowd of singers to loaf with.  and with that, we were out the door and safe in the parking lot, lost in the sounds of silence. (which is probably the song the bitch in the chair was singing).

next wednesday, we're staying home.

3 comments:

  1. This is the best blog to date!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thanks,doc. I really appreciate that.
    They say, write the truth!
    And they're right.

    ReplyDelete