Karaoke Night Done Right

On the off chance you didn’t sign into weather.com this weekend, let me paint a picture for you. Saturday morning we woke up to a town that was to some degree, underwater. The rain was relentless. A state of emergency was declared. Cars and homes flooded. In Florida fashion, old women were rescued from their homes via surfboards, while red necks floated down the streets on beach floats, with beer cans in hand. Much of the city shut down. Events were cancelled. Once the rain finally stopped, the water subsided and the sky began to clear, there was nothing left to do other than shake off the cabin fever and well, GO OUT AND GET ROWDY.

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It starts out just like any other Saturday Night. We head down to a favored local watering hole, which coincidentally or not is also a prized vegan eatery in our town. Order a standard “go to,” throw back a few PBR tallboys, get a little silly and inadvertently select one of many “Call Me Maybe” remixes on the jukebox. OK, fine, it’s on purpose. You’ve got me.

10:30 PM It just so happens, everyone is heading to another favored watering hole just down the way. It also just so happens that this watering hole is known for having the heaviest pours in town. Any night that ends here is well, one of “those” nights. And any night that kicks off here? Well, one better be prepared. 


11:15 PM The show doesn’t stop here. Everyone quickly decides to migrate down the street to our favorite karaoke bar that for sake of this piece will be referred to as “Dirty Dicks” (which I assure you, for better or worse, is not to far off from its actual name).

And this….

THIS IS WHERE IT GETS WHACK.

And it is not even midnight. The next few hours go a little something like this.

11:30 PM: We push open the door and enter the bar. The cigarette smoke is so thick it clouds not only the eyes but seems to ever so sneakily seep its way slowly into the brain. Time to beeline it to the bar for a drink.

12:00 AM: Karaoke chaos is already in full swing. Drinks are slinging. People are dancing. Why are people dancing? All that matters is that people are dancing. Dear God. It’s only midnight.


12:15 AM: It really is the ultimate case of "world's colliding" here tonight. Good grief.

12:30 AM: Now it’s off to the bathroom where I am hit with the door to the shared stall. Wait did that random girl just call me a c*&%t!?? Oh back to the shared stall. Yes, it is a shared stall in the girls bathroom. This is real, only at Dirty Dicks.

1:00 AM: By now everything is a blur. The Instagram pics are nonstop. The group grows and is slowly taking over the entire bar. Why does it seem like we own the place? All that matters is that we own the place. Damn right we own the place.

1:30 AM: Everyone is dancing on tabletops, Katy Perry, “Last Friday Night” style. It is past time to step it up and make Nicki proud. I quickly lose my mind rapping to “Super Bass.” And I am jumping. Why am I jumping? All that matters is that I am jumping.

2:15 AM: A table falls. Beers spill. Glasses shatter. Integrities are lost, never to be found again. The night is much like a train derailed. Yes, it is one of “THOSE” karaoke nights.

2:20 AM: All that’s missing are the bath salts.

2:30 AM: Suddenly everyone is in a circle singing along, dancing, swaying, embracing even hooting and hollering, including me. “OMG THIS IS MY FAVORITE SONG Y’ALL!!”

3:15 AM: Although I willfully resist and beg for any other song but this one, I find myself shamelessly teaming up with my roommate and leading the pack belting out Gotye “Somebody that I Used to Know” in one final group song that erupts into a massive cluster  (resembling something not too far from a clothed orgy).

3:30 AM: The lights come on. Subsequently the drunken goggles come off. Why am I still here? All that matters is that I am still here.