bartenderbaby

Karaoke. That’s right, karaoke. A bartender’s worst nightmare. There’s nothing I dread more than being sober and listening to twelve barely legal little girls screaming into 3 microphones to some insanely annoying song like Love Shack by the B52s. Or better yet, there are the karaoke kings who follow the DJ every week to a different bar to sing the same songs they’ve been singing for the last 10 years. Friends in Low Places by Garth Brooks, that Kid Rock song that everyone hates, or some other sappy country crap (take your pick). These guys make me want to pull my hair out. They’re local celebrities (just ask em they’ll tell ya).

Last week was my week to work karaoke night. All the kings were there and so were the girls. I listened to their rendition of Love Shack twice and Friends in Low Places a record number of six times! There was also a highly intoxicated woman in her early thirties that sang Crazy Bitch by Buck Cherry. (if you know the lyrics to this song you can imagine the response she got from all the single horny karaoke kings.) That was the highlight of my night. I got 3 1/2 minutes of amusement out of her.

The best (and by best I mean not awful.) performance of the evening belongs to a gal that came in, ordered a scotch on the rocks, (already I can tell I like her.) and goes up to the DJ to whisper in his ear. He hands her the wireless microphone, she shuts her eyes and sings Don’t Stop Believing by Journey. (This is my favorite song to sing along to and when it comes on the jukebox I belt it out as loud as I want and I don’t care who hears.) The mystery girl finishes my song, brings her empty glass to the bar and leaves. She didn’t even take her coat off. 

It was one of those weird moments where you feel like you could be living in a scene of a movie. I mean it would probably be one of those tragically sad indie films with a stupid ending that makes you wonder why you just wasted two hours of your life watching trash….but a movie nonetheless.