Another Karaoke Story

Another Karaoke Story:
My Ears! My Ears!




So as I have said before, karaoke rocks my world and I want to marry it. But as a wise woman once said, you take the good, you take the bad, you take 'em both and there you have, the facts of life. And so it is with karaoke. On the night that you have the hot chick from "Coming to America" signing autographs and singing "I Will Survive" in the bar of Red Lobster, you will also have one of the regulars, who was found cracked out (literally) in the Hempstead bus station, bleeding from the head in the lobby while his Brigitte Nielsen doppelganger wife screams at him. No, really. And 2 months later and 10 miles east, you may have the awesomest DJ and bartenders who hook you up and ask you out, but you will also have Norm*.

Now there are some people whom you meet, and it takes awhile to realize that there is something off about them. Norm was not one of those people. He was sort of like the real-life version of watching "H.R. Pufnstuf" while on 'shrooms. Not that I'd know what that's like.** Large and lumbering, with eyes that couldn't focus -- that was Norm. And he was always at karaoke. You could find him every Friday and Saturday at the microphone, belting out Bon Jovi in the style of Ben Stein, as he gazed out at the crowd with his shark-like eyes.

Or you could find him STANDING RIGHT NEXT TO YOU. Every Friday I'd get there on the early side with Shannon, and Norm would see us and come right up and put his arm around us. I did not enjoy this. As a general rule, I don't like being touched unless I know you well, and this is especially true if you are twice my size and scary.

However, nothing deterred Norm. Shannon tried putting her arm around me and telling him I was her girlfriend, but that didn't work. And yeah, I realize now that pretending to be a lesbian in a bar is not the best way to keep guys away, but to be fair, this was 1999, before faux-lesbianism was the all the rage among heterosexual girls desperate for attention, and we were under the mistaken impression that our sexual preference would be respected rather than seen as an added incentive for Norm to touch us.

As time has passed, I have gotten much better at telling guys in bars to just get off of me or I will kick them in the eye, but back then, I would just freeze up 'cause I still had some misguided compassion or whatever. Shannon knew this, so after being my girlfriend didnt work, she told Norm flat out, "She doesn't like to be touched." Norm would remember this for all of two seconds before he'd be back to the sidling, and it was all just very uncomfortable. It really wasn't until Writer Boy showed up later and we could block out Norm by the sheer power of numbers that we were free of him.

So you can imagine my unhappiness the one time I showed up to the bar and Shannon took her damn sweet time meeting me. And there was Norm. And I was all alone. No Writer Boy to shield me, no fake girlfriend to yell at him to go away. And sure enough, here he came.

To his credit, Norm seemed to remember not to put his arm around me this time. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I should have known better.

There Norm was, arm planted at his side, but still way too close for my comfort. I tried to seem extraordinarily fascinated by the olives in my martini. But closer, he leaned. I tried to steel myself. But nothing -- nothing -- could ever have prepared me for what was to come.

"I bought a Jennifer Love Hewitt poster today."

"..."

"I got it at the store."

"...oh..."

Desperately, I racked my brain for something -- anything -- to say. But what is a proper response when a 36-year-old man tells you he bought a poster of someone who, while admittedly busty, was still basically a child?

"I already hung it up. It's next to my bed."

I'd love to tell you what happened next, but unfortunately I don't remember, because it was imperative that I drink heavily and hit myself on the head with a spoon until Shannon arrived twenty million hours later.




***THE END***

*Name has been changed to protect everyone in the world.

**Okay seriously? NEVER DO THIS.



©2006