So the karaoke.
I had to work late, so I raced home to catch Survivor and got ready during the commercials. Esteban very nicely taped it for me, but it turned out to be the most anticlimactic Survivor ever. I felt so bad for Big Tom. I wanted to cry. I wanted him to win’ I just knew that he wouldn’t though. They would get rid of him unless he scored two immunities, which just didn’t seem in the cards. He looked fabu, though. I wish I could have given him a big hug.
I also wanted them to give him a big bottle of Jack Daniels or bourbon or whatever it was. ‘The Drunken Big Tom Show’ would be gold, baby, GOLD!
Ten minutes before the winner was announced, I decided that I didn’t really care and tried to leave, but Esteban forced me to stay and watch, since I’ve watched the show since it started and made him watch the show since it started. Ahem. Whatever, Esteban. Denial is not your best quality, dear. He pushed me back into the La-Z-Boy with my coat on until they announced that Linguine Head won and then I was out the door. I didn’t watch any of the commentary.
Instead, I busted to Cute Boy Bar. As I was walking up, I saw two cute girls walking in and then one of them said ‘Oh, Wait, that’s her right there!’ And it was Belle and her friend Lola. I gave her a hug, because as UncleBob says, ‘When Diarylanders meet, they HUG!’. And I stepped directly on her foot.
Good first impression. Just so you all know, if you ever meet me in person’ I may just injure you immediately.
But Belle was gracious about the whole thing, sort of ignoring the foot pain for the rest of the night. Which is probably why she had beer even though she said she didn’t really drink very much. To stop her foot from throbbing.
We met a couple of my friends there and there was some consternation about whether the karaoke would happen at all. I asked one of the spud boys to fetch me the owner, Cute Boy Proper. He came over and I pouted about having no karaoke with which to ply the Cute Boy Patrons and he said that he would run karaoke just for me.
JUST FOR ME.
Then for the first song, I didn’t have something written down and he yelled at me.
Yup. I’ve got some solid connections, baby.
Belle and her friend Lola were tres cool, witty and fun. They told me all about a store where the strippers shop. They have layaway at the stripper store, apparently. I so have to go there. They probably won’t have plus sizes, because there aren’t a wealth of 4x strippers, but it doesn’t hurt to shop. I got to get me some funky pimp diva clothes.
After some consternation, Belle joined Cheri and I for ‘Hold On’ and rocked the house down. She’s got some pipes, baby, let me tell you. Then Belle did an encore with a little Sinead O’Connor and a second ovation with ‘All By Myself’ in tribute to Bridget Jones. That rocked hard. Cheri and I were thrilled to see big heterosexual jocks singing ‘Don’t want to be’ all’ by’ myself’ anymore!!!’. Of course, we were singing along too, so can’t really complain.
Downer for the night: I wrote on my new fucking suede sheerling jacket. That really ticked me off. And I have not a clue how to get ink off of suede. Does Heloise read this page? If you have some thoughts, email me!
Finally, towards the end of the night, it was just Cheri, Belle and I, and the Cute Boys were dissolving into Cute Drunken Violent Boys, so we fled. I drove Belle home in a very messy Monte (complete with paper plate on the passenger side from making myself a peanut butter & banana sandwich for the road two days ago) and we bonded over the songs on a mixed CD which I’ve been quality testing before I send it to a friend. Belle lives three blocks from the house I ‘grew up’ in’ that is, the house that we stayed in the longest when I was a kid. It was the house that my mother’s hippy-ness went full blown and we had a two thousand square foot organic garden and house concerts and such. It was the house that Greenpeace stayed in. Then we sat outside her house and talked until I could taste urine in the back of my throat from having to pee so badly. Had it not been for bladder concerns, we probably could have chatted all night. She’s a delightful girl! She rocks the house down.
All in all, inking aside, it was a very lovely night. I got to meet my first Diarylander. I got out of singing ‘To Sir, With Love’ for my friend Bonita because she didn’t want to stay so late. And most importantly, I so totally called the winner of Survivor.
Today, the plan is to go to Appleton in search of Hob Nobs once again. Hopefully, the Irish Store will have them now. Otherwise, I shall hug my inked jacket around me and cry big cookie-less tears.
