The Hills Are Alive So Talk Dirty To Me

Whose idea was the karaoke last night?

Between Yukkell getting married, Operation Die Circus Tent, and dodging the Red Barron et al in my quest to be oh-so-mysterious (another blog post that needs more material first), I was ready to let loose. Apparently.

It all started innocently enough: margherita pizza, nice dinner salads, and a carafe of wine (not to mention the hefty glass I had before I ventured out to dinner) and then my dining companion, Dear Prudence suggests, “Let’s stop by [insert my favorite neighborhood bar here and no, its not Kittys]. Its karaoke night.” I thought this might be fun to watch. Ain’t no way I’m participating.

The extent of my singing career consists of me and my bestie friend, Martini, back in high school, cruising A1A and the neighborhoods off, windows down, music turned off, belting out - and I mean belting out - The Sound of Music in it entirety. It became a ritual. If someone made the cue to kill the music and roll down the window, you know that you had to step up and give your best, "The hills are alive...." We were pretty serious about it. We emoted hard on that song. And we'd start over if our voice cracked or we broke into laughter. There was lots of starting over so I said we sang it in its entirety but we never got that far. But our heart was in the right place.

But then I recall the couple weeks back in February or March when Mav and I accompanied the lovely Morgan - who, by the way, is a Singing Machine meaning she is actually GOOD - on some karaoke adventures. Why didn’t anyone blog about that? Probably because I woke up the next morning and said, “Wait?! I sang THAT? Why?! And who thought that was a good idea?” Mav. The instigator. Or so I thought. Apparently you get a few cocktails in me and I think I am Celine Dion. Or I just think I am much cuter than I am. And then I like to bop around on stage.

Therefore it doesn’t take much to drag me up there. Because the next thing you know, two miller lites into the bar and I was up on stage with a complete stranger belting out, “Talk Dirty To Me.”

I had fun last night. All it took was miller lites and a little dirty talk.

Who knew I was THAT easy?