A Double Dose of Karaoke

For as much as I reference karaoke, I haven't actually performed it since winning cash last August. Well, technically Madeleine and I have done several numbers, mostly Billy Joel, in front of the glow of a YouTubed computer screen, but if you're not publicly embarrassing yourself in front of strangers, it's probably not fair to call it karaoke.

In the past week, however, I've come back with a vengeance, going not once, not three times, not four times, not fifty-six times, but twice. The first occasion was on my birthday. We went to an unfamiliar place and I immediately felt welcomed and supported by the crowd. Unfortunately, the same welcome committee also had grabby hands and perv-y words for my female companions, thus making them understandably uncomfortable. Consequently, I was the only one to perform. The regular clientele, though trashy in nature and appearance, was actually largely talented. Generally, you get a few good performances a night, but these people were knocking them out of the park. While I tend to just half pay attention and wait for my friends and I to have a turn to sing, I eagerly watched many of the singers, genuinely enjoying their respective concerts. Still, the highlight of the night came not from a great performer, but Mr. Grabby Hands himself, who belted out a song I, thankfully, have previously been unfamiliar with. He claimed he wished he could dedicate the song to all of the ladies, but explained that he didn't yet know all of their names. The lyrics, which were projected on a large screen for everyone's benefit, actually made me cower in discomfort.

Only Women Bleed
Alice Cooper

Man's got his woman to take his seed
He's got the power - oh
She's got the need
She spends her life through pleasing up her man
She feeds him dinner or anything she can

She cries alone at night too often
He smokes and drinks and don't come home at all
Only women bleed
Only women bleed
Only women bleed

Man makes your hair gray
He's your life's mistake
All you're really lookin' for is an even break
He lies right at you
You know you hate this game
He slaps you once in a while and you live and love in pain

She cries alone at night too often
He smokes and drinks and don't come home at all
Only women bleed
Only women bleed
Only women bleed
Only women bleed
Only women bleed
Only women bleed
Only women bleed

Black eyes all of the time
Don't spend a dime
Clean up this grime
And you there down on your knees begging me please come
Watch me bleed

Only women bleed
Only women bleed
Only women bleed
Only women bleed
Only women bleed
Only women bleed
Only women bleed

There was nothing more terrifying than looking at the screen and seeing the phrase "only women bleed" multiple times, the text so large that each letter was the size of someone's head. On second thought, I take that back. The more terrifying aspect was when he would take the liberty of changing the word "women" to "bitches" or "whores." That sure added... well, something to the performance. Is it any wonder that all of my companions declined his invitation to dance a short time later?

On Saturday, while visiting Susan, I'm sorry, that's Dr. Susan, for her graduation, I went out with her and her friends for some karaoke fun. Similarly, the destination was an unfamiliar dive bar. Because my friends' and my socializing habits have led me to be most comfortable at establishments I wouldn't normally be comfortable at, I was the only one who was immediately excited by the location. In almost no time, however, it seemed Susan and her friends realized that it was actually less embarrassing to perform in front of a bunch of older, lonely drunks than your contemporaries. Sure, they might be "gross," but so are poopy diapers, and we still find babies cute. I'm pleased to report that Susan's friends are all very nice, fun, good people, which is always satisfying to encounter. One of these friends is Kim. Kim, it's been a year since I've shamed you, and, as I miss your writing, perhaps it's time to shame you again. There's a difference between being tardy and disappearing altogether. The masses want a firsthand account on your rendition of "Big Pimpin'."