09 May 2006

In retrospect, I shouldn't have drunk the entire bottle of liquid dumb.

...but there I was in a hotel room in a strange city (Newark) with naught to do, and it tasted good.

Oh, I've been known to do this before. When I was younger and had more brain and liver cells, I would, upon occasion, wake up pants-less on the bathroom floor after a party. The details of precisely when I achieved this efficiently ventilated rumpal state would generally escape me, but as no pictures have shown up on the Internet, it must have been after the last witness, er, guest, left the place.

However, now that I am a responsible adult, I rarely exhibit such a lapse of judgment and when I do it's pretty much always Irish Bob's fault. This time is no exception.

“You know what'd be a lark?” He says: “Karaoke!”

Well, I've got a voice that would get the Hounds of Hell baying, which you lot would find painful but These Damn Kids Today™ would probably pay big bucks to listen to if the sounds were emanating from one of their "bands" and not the pie hole of a balding, yet otherwise hirsute, middle-aged rotundity .

“No way!” my brains says, which somehow comes out of my mouth as “Uh, okay....” and off we stagger to the Karaoke bar.

Now, being a little thick, I agree with Bob that we'll choose each other's songs, for maximum embarrassment value. He chooses Tiny Tim's “Livin' in the Sunlight, Lovin' in the moonlight” for me, and I am to be true to the artist's vision.

Fine. Paybacks being a female dog and all that.

My performance garners unreasonable applause, and afterwards the manager, an earnest young lady with severly short hair, wearing an organically dyed linen hippie dress and Birkenstocks, comes on to the stage.

“Thanks for coming out, here” She says wiping a tear from her eye “It's very courageous at your age!”

Well, for goodness sakes, this isn't exactly Afghanistan, you know. Newark's not as bad as Compton for example...

I look around at the smiling, wildly applauding couples, (mostly male) and the penny drops.

She didn't say “Thanks for coming out here”, she said “Thanks for coming out comma here”

I've been set up!

By the time I make it back to the table, a sniggering Irish Bob has run off to post the video on our server, whilst stiffing me with the drinks tab.



Bastard's gonna pay!


And that's the way I likes it.