Crapaoke

What's better than spending the evening at a bar full of bizarre locals in a random town?  In theory, probably anything. But at least it was entertaining.  Sort of.

Apparently Thursday is Karaoke Night at this gem.  And Prime Rib Night but, um, no thanks. After a quick visual evaluation, only fried food was an option.  I didn't see a sign but I'm guessing it's also "Let's Keep the 90s Alive Forever Night" because that is the only logical explanation for some of the outfits.

Minus a few good singers, these people sucked.   Worse than I've ever seen.  I can say that because I am an excellent singer.  Having flawlessly executed "Funky Cold Medina" to honor Husband's birthday in a Japanese Karaoke Bar earlier this year,  resulting in a standing ovation (okay, I just lied), I really could have blown away the competition.

The smile of a man who knows his lucrative retirement will be made possible by my eventual career in music.

But I was a newcomer, so I wanted to make friends.  And I sure did -

My bar neighbor shared that he goes there "every day at 9am with a newspaper" because he was laid off and has nothing else to do.  He also told me four times he "made a lot of money", and proved it by quoting his exact hourly rate, dollars and cents.  Strangers should always tell each other their annual income, right?  Good ice breaker.

I misunderstood his comment about "singing on cruise ships" and thought he actually did that for a living, which I thought was awesome.  Turns out he only sings on cruise ships when he's vacationing.  Bummer.  I tried to get him to sing a duet with me and Husband suggested the "Cruisin" remake by Huey Lewis and Gwyneth Paltrow.   I thought telling him I knew the entire thing by heart, plus pointing out it had the word "cruise" in it so that was a sign from God, would seal the deal.  He was not interested.  What a jerk. 
 
Good thing the DJ played the worst techno songs ever in between every performance. This place clearly needed more horrible music to entertain patrons  Husband said he probably also works as an MC at a strip club although I'm not sure how he'd know since he's definitely never been to one. (Me either.)

Not wanting to interrupt a very heated game, I decided against telling the girl storing extra metal-tipped darts in her ponytail that it seemed dangerous.  Especially while dancing.  And flashing other players.  One shirt lift gone wrong and she could have stabbed herself in the brain.  Although I really don't think society was at risk of losing a future Nobel Prize winner.

Amazing how many photos are available when googling "Dart Injuries".  A little kid had one in his shoulder but I wasn't prepared for parental backlash.  Plus, he looked really upset which would've ruined my story.

If I was easily offended, I might have asked the bartender why she picked us as the two people who would definitely know what channel 'Jersey Shore' was on. After saying MTV and that it was Channel 53 through our cable provider, she asked "well what about on regular TV?"  I'm still not sure what that meant.  But due to the fact that we definitely got into a time machine when walking through the door, she may not have known what cable was. Makes perfect sense.

The best part of the whole night?  The prize for winning the karaoke competition finals (which will be held next Thursday if anyone is interested) is a "trip for 2 to Mexico". A+ for ambiguity!  Wouldn't you be super excited knowing this trip could potentially place you in ANY god forsaken city in the country?  One bad shake of a Magic 8 Ball by a disgruntled travel agent could land you in sunny Juarez.   Good luck contestants!

Is the prize actually a scam that tricks you into buy a vacation timeshare?