I went out with the Pompadour last night and can I just say, "That man is lovely." And can I ask, "Why is this man not a stand-up comedian?" And can I critique, "I couldn't dress him better myself."
I'm thinking of changing his moniker in my cell phone from Pompadour to his real name. But let's not get ahead of ourselves here.
We went to my little neighborhood hipster joint for chimays and the weekly karaoke hour. (When did I start doing the karaoke circuit?) This week, taking to the big stage, were:
The Girl Who Absolutely Can Not Sing But Really Believes In Her Heart Of Hearts That She Can. And so you feel for her as she starts out all shy with her hands in her pockets as she belts out Pat Benetar then morphs into this little pop princess with the moves - the leg slide, the breast stroke, and the hair flip - AND the elephant in the room. Wardrobe malfunction. Because if she were on television, the black bar would cover up her crotchal region because I am pretty sure zippers are supposed to be in the upright position. For FCC purposes. But in a "galaxy" far far away - zippers away! If only she were singing Tom Petty, "Into the great wide open....a rebel without a clue." Then one could say, "Oh, I get it."
The Guy In The Suit Drinking Scotch Wearing A Wedding Band And Belting Out Judas Priest. He even asks for air guitar participation, fist-pumping, and stage-jumps. Y'all, he was awesome! And he was "breaking the law! breaking the law!"
The Artsy-Hipster Guy In A TIGHT Vest Who Is With Girl Who Can Not Sing Most Likely Meeting Her In A French Enlightenment And The Modern Citizen Class. He does a lounge-type act and gets all Vegas by unbuttoning his shirt and sashaying. Not to mention making a little pass at Pompadour. Who could blame him? He was the hottest guy in school.
The Drunk Frat Boy In Possession Of Sunglasses At 10 PM Which Means Drinking Since The Afternoon. Why does everybody want to high five my date?
After our hour of this fun and after we agreed that that Chris Isaak song IS, in fact, sexy, Pompadour tells me that he wants to go somewhere else for some face time so we can chat. Oh, and this is after he already locked in a date for next week. It's a beach weekend.
And at the end of the night, he opened the car door for me and after I was safely tucked in, shut it. Start to finish. Because it's those little things after all.
That Pompadour is chivalrous too.