Written Sunday, June 13th, in Providence.
Kareoki is bad at the best of times, and last night was not the best of times.
Suu had apparently had a bad night at work, serving frou frou beers to a thousand ersatz soccer fans, and on the urging of her friend Deirdre, had decided to end the evening at McDowney's. McDowney's is one of those neighborhood bars that is one step above shit hole and two steps below nice...The fact that it has built in Kareoki equipment and only accepts cash at the bar is all you really need to know.
When Richter and I were told of their plans, we both realized that we had to take one for the team, as allowing Suu to walk home in the rain – in her neighborhood – would be irresponsible. So we manned up, tossed on trench coats, and walked through the downpour.
It was an ugly scene. The bar was largely empty when we arrived, except for Brenda (the bartender), Deirdre, and Suu, who was busy being an angry, angry monkey. There was one other guy, who had spent some time and a pitcher of beer trying to chat the two women up. At some point after Richter sat between the ladies and this guy, he had attempted to give Suu his phone number, scrawled on a lottery ticket. Suu thanked him, and pushed it toward the bar's speed rack. The guy got up, retrieved it, and gave it to Deirdre. She ignored him, and he stalked out of the bar.
Conversation was impossible. Suu was already buzzed, and was having an angry moment. Richter and I ordered cokes, and settled in for a long evening. We had at least gotten comfortable when Suu and Deirdre started squealing like Catholic school girls. We were eventually able to decipher their newfound language (read: drunken bellowing) that Kareoki was about to begin.
This, I thought, justified walking out to get a smoke. Everything was getting too weird. Suu had spend five minutes demanding that I punch her in the tit, and now this. But as I got up to walk out front, Suu spun around to run and sign up for the first song. Her arm spun out, and she punched me dead in the junk. Richter was looking the other way, Deirdre was nowhere to be seen in the now-crowded bar, and Brenda just sort of giggled. I staggered out front and had my smoke.
I returned just in time to hear Deirdre and Suu mangle "Black Velvet" by Alana Miles. Their rendition was of such quality that if Alana Miles had been there to hear it, she would have killed herself just so she could spin in her grave.
Moments later, though, things got worse. After a rendition of "Pop the Top Again" by some horrible old barfly, some clown got up and did "What a Wonderful World", while trying to sound like Satchmo. Richter and I looked at each other in horror, and at the same moment screamed "OH, GOD, NOT LOUIS!"
After an interminable amount of time, and another musical tragedy by Suu and Deirdre, we gathered Suu up and started back to Richter's place, to get the car. Suu kept insisting that the evening had been a bad idea, and I responded "You decided to get drunk while you were sober, and your judgment was better than now that you're drunk".
Then Suu punched a road sign.
No reason for it really, other than that it was there (her knuckle looks GLORIOUS today). I remarked that she was going to feel it in the morning, and she giggled. Bear in mind that it was taking both Richter and I to keep her from falling into traffic by this time. We still had 10 blocks to go.
I breathed a sigh of relief when we got across the highway bridge, but Suu wasn't done with us yet. She hollered "FLOWERS!" and tried to steal one of the town planters hanging from a light pole. Richter hauled her off the light pole, and I gaped in horror as I noticed that we were about to pass an open air restaurant, full of horrible tourists that had come to Federal Hill (Richter's neighborhood), because, well, that's where you go when you want to be seen by all the right people.
On this night, Suu wasn't the right people.
"Beeeeehave yourself, Suu", I said, sotto voice.
"WHAT THE FUCK? OF COURSE I'M GOING TO BEHAVE MYSELF! I'M AN INDUSTRY PROFESSIONAL!"
We walked past the staring, horrified New Rich.
We put Suu in the car, and drove her to her apartment. We helped get her into her house, then turned to leave. Richter told me to stop for a second, and then nodded as he heard both of her door locks engage.
"I like the way you think.", I said.
"Inherent paranoia has its purposes", he said, "and if it worked better, we'd have never had to put up with Louis Armstrong being desecrated."
How the hell can you argue with that?
We drove off through the rain soaked streets. Just another night in the monstrosity we call America.
Remind me the next time I go to Providence that if I end up drinking with Suu to wear a jock strap.
This story is :lulz:
Karaoke is always an exercise in sadomasochism. My band and I do it. I'm always drunk when I go up, so I end up mucking it up. My keyboardist always does a fantastic job. gf/bassist manages to rule the disco tunes. And there is always that one lady, the same lady, who over and over again does a horrible rendition of "Lola". She's really nice. But my god. Nevermind the ever present but interchangeable college girls (and there's always three of them) doing "Don't Stop Believing".
Why do I keep going back, other than to bring the joy of Megadeth, Danzig, Judas Priest and Johnny motherfucking Cash?
:mittens:
:lulz: I'm looking forward to more travelogues, sir.
Quote from: Nephew Twiddleton on June 16, 2010, 01:26:25 AM
Karaoke is always an exercise in sadomasochism. My band and I do it. I'm always drunk when I go up, so I end up mucking it up. My keyboardist always does a fantastic job. gf/bassist manages to rule the disco tunes. And there is always that one lady, the same lady, who over and over again does a horrible rendition of "Lola". She's really nice. But my god. Nevermind the ever present but interchangeable college girls (and there's always three of them) doing "Don't Stop Believing".
Why do I keep going back, other than to bring the joy of Megadeth, Danzig, Judas Priest and Johnny motherfucking Cash?
Speaking of Danzig, this popped into my head.
(to Ghoul's Night Out)
This is Suu's Night Out,
suffer unto me,
Rog and Richter men-at-arms,
Suu's in hellish form.
This is Suu's Night Out,
Suu has gone to hell
"WHAT THE HELL," she yelled out
"I'M PROFESSIONAL"
Suu's, Suu's, Suu's night out
Suu's, Suu's, Suu's night out
etc.
:thanks:
Quote from: Eater of Clowns on June 16, 2010, 01:40:23 AM
:lulz: I'm looking forward to more travelogues, sir.
Quote from: Nephew Twiddleton on June 16, 2010, 01:26:25 AM
Karaoke is always an exercise in sadomasochism. My band and I do it. I'm always drunk when I go up, so I end up mucking it up. My keyboardist always does a fantastic job. gf/bassist manages to rule the disco tunes. And there is always that one lady, the same lady, who over and over again does a horrible rendition of "Lola". She's really nice. But my god. Nevermind the ever present but interchangeable college girls (and there's always three of them) doing "Don't Stop Believing".
Why do I keep going back, other than to bring the joy of Megadeth, Danzig, Judas Priest and Johnny motherfucking Cash?
Speaking of Danzig, this popped into my head.
(to Ghoul's Night Out)
This is Suu's Night Out,
suffer unto me,
Rog and Richter men-at-arms,
Suu's in hellish form.
This is Suu's Night Out,
Suu has gone to hell
"WHAT THE HELL," she yelled out
"I'M PROFESSIONAL"
Suu's, Suu's, Suu's night out
Suu's, Suu's, Suu's night out
etc.
:thumbsup:
Dok is too kind about my part in this :lulz:
Quote from: Richter on June 16, 2010, 03:21:02 AM
Dok is too kind about my part in this :lulz:
You radiated hate for a solid 4 hours, but you kept it together like a champ.
That was not the first time that Richter had to deal with my drunk. :(
Quote from: Suu on June 16, 2010, 03:38:46 AM
That was not the first time that Richter had to deal with my drunk. :(
That wasn't where the hate came from.
We were fine with you and Deirdre and Brenda.
It was everyone else.
Yeah, it was the crowd. The $2 bride and all.
Quote from: Suu on June 16, 2010, 03:38:46 AM
That was not the first time that Richter had to deal with my drunk. :(
No worries, you've spotted my intoxicated self plenty too.
goddamnit now I REALLY wish I had been able to come. :|
I didn't see that damn bridal party you know. I was THAT shithoused. :horrormirth:
Quote from: Suu on June 16, 2010, 03:52:29 AM
I didn't see that damn bridal party you know. I was THAT shithoused. :horrormirth:
Aw, shit. Forgot that part.
It was so pathetic, my brain rejected it.
Oh god I wish I had been there.
Epic! We have a word over here for people like Suu - "Scottish". Anytime you find yourself in this neck of the woods, Suu, you'll probably survive the experience just fine
Quote from: Kai on June 16, 2010, 01:31:36 PM
Oh god I wish I had been there.
THIS!!
No one wants to make a trip to the BEAUTIFUL city of St. Louis? I'll only take you to the "nice" places where you
probably won't get shot, mugged or strip searched!
I Promise!!! :evil:
Quote from: P3nT4gR4m on June 16, 2010, 02:09:48 PM
Epic! We have a word over here for people like Suu - "Scottish". Anytime you find yourself in this neck of the woods, Suu, you'll probably survive the experience just fine
Payne knew what he was doing when he made me an honorary member.
Payne actually is scottish (as opposed to honorary) ergo he lacks the critical faculty to know what he's doing. Ever. The Scottish empire only ever get things right by coincidence :argh!: That's why we drink so much: drunk people are far more likely to have an accident. And that's the only way smart things happen round here.
eg. Alexander Graham Bell, whilst on an epic bender, became inextricably tangled in a bunch of electrical wiring. He was so drunk he was actually convinced his assistant was in the same room and asked him to help. The assistant however had been involved in a drunken argument with Alex, who had attempted to throttle him with the same wiring. The assistant had managed to stagger/flee from the wrath of the bearded pisshead, to his house next door, not realising the cable was still wrapped round his neck. When Alexander spoke to him he thought he was hearing voices.
It wasn't til about a month later that the assistant actually remembered the events and thus, after first eliminating a whole bunch of theories about whiskey and demonology, the telephone was discovered.
(we call them discoveries in scotland - invention implies intent)
Quote from: P3nT4gR4m on June 16, 2010, 04:41:44 PM
Payne actually is scottish (as opposed to honorary) ergo he lacks the critical faculty to know what he's doing. Ever. The Scottish empire only ever get things right by coincidence :argh!: That's why we drink so much: drunk people are far more likely to have an accident. And that's the only way smart things happen round here.
eg. Alexander Graham Bell, whilst on an epic bender, became inextricably tangled in a bunch of electrical wiring. He was so drunk he was actually convinced his assistant was in the same room and asked him to help. The assistant however had been involved in a drunken argument with Alex, who had attempted to throttle him with the same wiring. The assistant had managed to stagger/flee from the wrath of the bearded pisshead, to his house next door, not realising the cable was still wrapped round his neck. When Alexander spoke to him he thought he was hearing voices.
It wasn't til about a month later that the assistant actually remembered the events and thus, after first eliminating a whole bunch of theories about whiskey and demonology, the telephone was discovered.
(we call them discoveries in scotland - invention implies intent)
:lulz:
Quote from: P3nT4gR4m on June 16, 2010, 04:41:44 PM
Payne actually is scottish (as opposed to honorary) ergo he lacks the critical faculty to know what he's doing. Ever. The Scottish empire only ever get things right by coincidence :argh!: That's why we drink so much: drunk people are far more likely to have an accident. And that's the only way smart things happen round here.
eg. Alexander Graham Bell, whilst on an epic bender, became inextricably tangled in a bunch of electrical wiring. He was so drunk he was actually convinced his assistant was in the same room and asked him to help. The assistant however had been involved in a drunken argument with Alex, who had attempted to throttle him with the same wiring. The assistant had managed to stagger/flee from the wrath of the bearded pisshead, to his house next door, not realising the cable was still wrapped round his neck. When Alexander spoke to him he thought he was hearing voices.
It wasn't til about a month later that the assistant actually remembered the events and thus, after first eliminating a whole bunch of theories about whiskey and demonology, the telephone was discovered.
(we call them discoveries in scotland - invention implies intent)
Holy shit.
It's a good thing for you guys that I bailed early that day (due to chemical imbalance issues), because if I were there, I'd have encouraged her, and things could have gotten REALLY bad...
Oh, and a big :mittens: to EoC for his rendition of "Ghouls Night Out"
Quote from: dimo on June 16, 2010, 07:01:19 PM
Oh, and a big :mittens: to EoC for his rendition of "Ghouls Night Out"
Thank you Dimo and Twid. It was way easier than the Wu-Tang clan thing I did yesterday. Oh, and this is where I mention I'm going to see Danzig next Monday (and the only original Misfits member that won't be at the show is Jerry Only).
Quote from: Khara on June 16, 2010, 02:20:28 PM
THIS!!
No one wants to make a trip to the BEAUTIFUL city of St. Louis? I'll only take you to the "nice" places where you probably won't get shot, mugged or strip searched! I Promise!!! :evil:
Well if you're gonna keep me away from all the interesting stuff, why would I bother?
Quote from: Exit City Hustle on June 17, 2010, 03:59:00 PM
Quote from: Khara on June 16, 2010, 02:20:28 PM
THIS!!
No one wants to make a trip to the BEAUTIFUL city of St. Louis? I'll only take you to the "nice" places where you probably won't get shot, mugged or strip searched! I Promise!!! :evil:
Well if you're gonna keep me away from all the interesting stuff, why would I bother?
Baby I'll take you across the river and let you go wild. :wink: Well if we actually were able to park without being shot.
We can go downtown, the muggings are pretty much confined to a 4 block area, so I can promise you at least a 42.37% chance of being mugged.
OR, and this is the real fun, we can rent an Escalade and let them carjack us! WOOHOO!!!