We'd had a great dinner at Devon's, a restaurant the size of a pocket serving local striped bass and scallops. We'd strolled around Provincetown taking in the many variations of friends and families all enjoying their ice cream cones. My ice cream was Chocolate Mint Oreo and how that has not managed to become a modern standard baffles me. It's really really good.
We'd started thinking about going home but needed a bathroom break (home is about 25 miles down the road). A quick slip into the Governor Bradford which turns out to be a karaoke bar run by a quick and sweet-natured drag queen in a demure sequin tank and python pleather leggings. And motorcycle boots. Our intention was to split a drink but as I had retired the car keys to Jason, I got to have my own. And it was fun so that lead to two of my own.
Which led me to an epiphany.
I will never see anyone in this bar again. The exception being Jason and it is increasingly difficult to be embarrassed around him. He's a musician, he's WELL AWARE that I am not. I am surrounded by friendly, hammered boys and girls whose performances might even make mine look palatable because I could just swing my hair around if I muss the words.
I first try to talk Jason into a rendition of Islands in the Stream. No go. He does not karaoke and he is sober anyhow. But I'm adamant now that this is my last best opportunity to do this for the first time. It's between Bonnie Tyler and Juice Newton. Bonnie won and I felt a twinge of sick when I dropped my slip with my name and song code into the fish bowl.
It's a slow night. Very suddenly I'm up next. Medicinal shot of Jameson. Not sure if that helped but at least it coated my vocal chords. Made my way to the stage and whispered my first-timer status to Dana Danzel who I've come to know as the hostess.
There's a group of 5-6 middle-aged women directly to the right of the stage. They are complimentary and encouraging. I'm well aware that I'm shouting. It is a yelling, Shatneresque rendition of "Total Eclipse of the Heart." Jason is filming and I remember to look at him from time to time...more so later in the song when I've decided to "own it."
Dana jumped in to help me out on the chorus and with the "Turn around bright eyes..." and before I knew it I was belting it out. Monotonically but BELTING nonetheless. People danced. It was really fun. Intensely awful but still fun.
I walked off stage to a wildly amused boyfriend and some time later did convince him to be Kenny Rogers to my Dolly Parton. It was even worse but we did it and and then we did it again on the ride home when we found the song on one of my parents mix CD's, sandwiched between "Colors of the Wind" and "Roseanna."
Maybe next time I have a houseful of awesome, I'll be brave enough to try it again, bring the whole crew. Unlikely but I enjoy the thought.
And because I would never have done it with you IN the bar, I give you the footage. Because I'm moving a little slowly this morning and it will have seemed like a good idea at the time. Don't say I never gave you anything.