Karaoke Contest

Did I mention that I am a finalist in the big karaoke contest at the bar where I hang out?

It's kinda funny. The prizes are not real spectacular, but several people have told me that they are depending on the cash being offered as first prize to better their lives. Okay... if you really think that a couple hundred bucks is gonna change your life, then you should be doing better things with your time than practicing for a crappy karaoke contest... like maybe getting a job or something. The second and third prizes are gift certificates to the bar.

So the contest is really just for fun, and apparently to lure more people up there on Sunday nights during football season.

I generally dislike competition, so I really don't care if I win or not. It's socially acceptable exhibitionism, which is right up my alley. Plus I get a chance to sing, and since I no longer sing at church I've shifted to the Church of Big Louie's Bar and Grill. And to top things off, I get to watch people and pick them apart as much as I want without worrying that they might see me watching and picking and be offended.

The first night of the contest, one of the finalists took the whole thing super duper seriously. He drank hot tea with lemon all night to warm his pipes up, and then he changed into a costume in the bathroom before he sang. What did he sing, you ask? The frickin' Monster Mash. Complete with the Boris Karloff and Peter Lorre impersonations. Now I ask you: why would you feel the need to keep your vocal cords supple for such a gay song? I mean really. The costume I can kinda see... I mean, you can't really hope to be taken seriously with a song like that, so you might as well ham it up. But the hot tea... I mean, I was sitting there sucking down Southern Hospitalities and chain smoking, and I managed to stumble my way into the finals. Why get your undies all in a bunch over nothing?

What was really funny was the guy's wife. She was there for moral support, and while he was singing she was up there dancing like he was Tom Jones or something. I was a little surprised she didn't throw her panties at him or flash her boobs. I'm glad she didn't go that far, though... she was old and not real attractive. For a brief second I thought about the sad sickness of the fact that she seemed to be getting all hot and bothered about this little guy singing the Monster Mash... I mean, what does that say about their sex life??? Kinky.

The only problem I have with the whole costume thing is wondering what this guy is gonna wear for the finals. Does this mean I have to wear a costume too? Maybe if I show up flashing a lot of cleavage and then spill hot tea with lemon on my top I can score the third prize gift certificate... although I could burn that up in one evening of drinking, so it would hardly be worth it.