no more karaoke...i can't take it anymore!
things began innocently enough this summer when me and my two girl-pals decided to start going to the neighborhood karaoke bar on a weekly basis. we thought we'd liven up the place with a bit of screaming and clapping, shirt-grabbing, and other such groupie-style appreciation for our friends and our favorite host, gord. our enthusiasm was manic, hysterical. it was beatles-quality.
as the summer wore on, we added can-can dancing to our repertoire, then inappropriate tango manouevres, high-school slow dancing, and finally, FIGHT CHOREOGRAPHY. marnie and i brought down the house with our combination of hair-pulling, ass-slapping, wrestling, headlocks, and fist-pumping gone awry.
suddenly, the over-50 crowd at the bar were giving us the googly eyes of love. i didn't get it. these guys wanted to buy us drinks, sit at our table, talk about cree legends and glenn gould. "can't they see we're freaks??" i said in frustration. i thought maybe it was time i cut down on my older repertoire. ditch the petula clark, the andrews sisters, the peggy lee...i switched to offspring, bjork, the cure.
the geezers kept coming in droves.
"lei ho mah?" leered one. "i bet you don't dress like that around your boyfriend," said another, ogling my t-shirt and jeans. it's true i looked like a teenage boy that night. yet, they kept coming 'round. the groupies had acquired groupies.
it's been three weeks now since we've gone. we've had pervs before, but never in such quantities. so i ask, any ideas for a good disguise? i do want to go back...someday.
things began innocently enough this summer when me and my two girl-pals decided to start going to the neighborhood karaoke bar on a weekly basis. we thought we'd liven up the place with a bit of screaming and clapping, shirt-grabbing, and other such groupie-style appreciation for our friends and our favorite host, gord. our enthusiasm was manic, hysterical. it was beatles-quality.
as the summer wore on, we added can-can dancing to our repertoire, then inappropriate tango manouevres, high-school slow dancing, and finally, FIGHT CHOREOGRAPHY. marnie and i brought down the house with our combination of hair-pulling, ass-slapping, wrestling, headlocks, and fist-pumping gone awry.
suddenly, the over-50 crowd at the bar were giving us the googly eyes of love. i didn't get it. these guys wanted to buy us drinks, sit at our table, talk about cree legends and glenn gould. "can't they see we're freaks??" i said in frustration. i thought maybe it was time i cut down on my older repertoire. ditch the petula clark, the andrews sisters, the peggy lee...i switched to offspring, bjork, the cure.
the geezers kept coming in droves.
"lei ho mah?" leered one. "i bet you don't dress like that around your boyfriend," said another, ogling my t-shirt and jeans. it's true i looked like a teenage boy that night. yet, they kept coming 'round. the groupies had acquired groupies.
it's been three weeks now since we've gone. we've had pervs before, but never in such quantities. so i ask, any ideas for a good disguise? i do want to go back...someday.
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btw, the eastman museum is good too. not so many toys, but good nonetheless...