
 '##::::'##:::'#####:::'########: VIVA LA REVOLUCION! CERDO DEL CAPITALISTA!!
  ##:::: ##::'##.. ##:: ##.....:: ===========================================
  ##:::: ##:'##:::: ##: ##::::::: THE HELOTS OF ECSTASY PRESS RELEASE #451 !!
  #########: ##:::: ##: ######::: ZIEGO VUANTAR SHALL BE MUCH VICTORIOUS!  !!
  ##.... ##: ##:::: ##: ##...:::: ===========================================
  ##:::: ##:. ##:: ##:: ##::::::: "Karaoke"                                !!
  ##:::: ##::. #####::: ########: by -> Phairgirl                          !!
 ..:::::..::::.....::::........:: 1/21/99                                  !!
 !!========================================================================!!

        Q: What has the potential to make a drunk look even stupider
           than the time they did cartwheels naked in the bar parking
           lot for $20?

        A: Karaoke.

        It was the night of the Dubuque Wendy's employee Christmas party.
 We were all a little skeptical, considering our manager Kim had chosen a
 karaoke party this year, as opposed to our ritual bowling parties that
 had grown boring yet familiar.  Still, after hearing that there was a bar
 in the Knights of Columbus hall we had rented for the occasion, spirits
 seemed to brighten just a little.  If nothing else, the kids could goof
 off and the adults could get a decent buzz going and enjoy themselves.
 Someone was bringing Trivial Pursuit in case the management (and anyone
 else) got bored.

        I, on the other hand, was becoming oddly excited, anticipating
 the occasion.  Upon hearing of the liquor availability, I made it my
 personal mission to make sure every last one of my co-workers could
 attend and watch me make a complete ass out of myself.  Hell, I told
 them, if nothing else, come to watch me be stupid.  That'll be
 entertaining enough to make up for the fact that you're underage and
 can't get plowed off your ass as surely as I would be.  And for some,
 this was enough to do the trick.

        I decided to drag my brother along, as he was most likely going to
 be a future co-worker of mine, since the pay was good and the work was
 simple.  We loaded up in a tiny LeBaron, driven by my manager Nancy's
 husband, who was to get us all home safely in our drunken states.  Six of
 us, all crammed in as uncomfortable as could be, to hang out with the
 same irritating faces from work to listen to them sing karaoke.  I
 promised Trudy, the slow girl who just turned 21, that I would buy her
 her very first alcoholic drink: a wine cooler.  She was scared.  And in
 some social circles, I could be considered scared, too.

        Upon our first arrival, a few people were there, milling around
 the food table.  I avoided my ex.  I chatted up with some ex-co-workers
 of mine who were long since working at our newest franchise store that
 opened almost two years ago.  I casually deduced from conversation that
 the bar was dirt-ass cheap.  And so, after a little food and speak, I
 worked my way over to the bartender.  The rest of the night could only be
 classified in how many beers I had consumed.

        Beer #1:

        I was mildly hyperactive to begin with that night, and Jenny, a
 friend and co-worker, shared my anticipation.  We had talked a few days
 earlier at work about singing some songs together, and so she came over
 to me with a songbook from the karaoke people.  Some people from the
 other store had already taken over the machine; sounds of white-boy _Baby
 Got Back_ and off-key _Bohemian Rhapsody_ rung throughout the hall.  My
 beer was almost finished when we decided on _The Right Stuff_ by New Kids
 On The Block.  It was a too-perfect way to begin the night.

        We were the fourth people to step up to the mics.  With not even a
 light buzz yet, I could feel my stage fright creeping up.  However, I
 remembered that I worked with these people on a daily basis; I couldn't
 possibly make a bigger ass out of myself in front of them than I did
 every other day of the week.  The music started and laughs and groans
 came from the crowd.  Jenny and I semi-quietly jammed our way through,
 dancing a little and genuinely looking like we were having fun, as
 opposed to the extreme fright I was feeling.  But we did it.  And on the
 way back to the bar, I got a few compliments.  I knew then that I had to
 start chugging.

        Beer #2:

        We got ahold of the book again, and my brother and I tried to
 find something funkadelic.  They didn't have "Brickhouse".  Nothing from
 Parliament.  We flirted with the idea of doing "Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm", but I
 decided I would sound utterly retarded.  Travis wanted to do Cameo's
 "Word Up", but nobody would've had a clue but us.  In the meantime,
 another friend and co-worker, Matt, proposed I do a rap with him.  We
 picked a good one, alright, and he took the little piece of paper up to
 the karaoke people.  Jenny stopped over to say she wanted to sing a song
 for Patti, another co-worker, and I filled out a slip of paper for that
 one, also.  Travis and I continued looking, and I finished my beer.

        Beer #3:

        Kim ran into me in the bathroom.  She already had a really, really
 good buzz going and was very distraught over turning 30 later this
 month.  I felt really bad for her.  Hell, I don't ever want to turn 30.
 I could never get away with the shit I was doing tonight when I turn 30.
 I told her it would be alright, and made the rounds, talking to a few
 other people.

        After a few minutes, Kim pulled me over and said, "Are you gonna
 come up and sing with us?" All the managers (except our general
 managers) were heading up to the podium, and I inquired as to what was
 the occasion.  "We're singing 'Take This Job And Shove It' to Jim and
 Steve," she replied.  Oh, I was game.  I quick bought myself a wine
 cooler and crowded around, singing that timeless anthem to our bosses.

        That wine cooler went really fast after that.  I gave Trudy a
 taste to see if she thought she could handle it.  She was so embarassed.
 I was amused.

        Beer #5 (Counting that wine cooler):

        Trudy and my friend Sarah sang "Wing Beneath My Wings," and
 everyone slow danced.  The other store had pretty much been karaoke hogs
 up to this point, and Travis and I finally picked a song and decided to
 get it in before they completely took over.  I promised Trudy that wine
 cooler after she got done singing; however, Matt and I got called up for
 our little rap right after their song.

        I really, really should've thought about some of the songs I was
 singing before I chose them.  But by now, I had a really nice buzz going
 on so it didn't matter.  Matt and I had chosen Tone Loc's ever-so-tasteful
 "Wild Thing," and I was having a little too much fun rapping about girls
 on my jock and having to adjust my fly.  Jenny and Nikki put on a pseudo
 strip-show for us.  Matt seemed to be enjoying myself.  At that point,
 the alcohol was carrying me anyway.  It was a blast.


        Beer #6:

        I got Trudy that wine cooler after all.  She was freaking; she
 carried it around with her for hours, not drinking much more than a
 little sip.

        Waiting for Jenny's and my song to come up, another co-worker of
 ours, Tom, told me I should sing Alannah Myles' "Black Velvet".  I had
 lost my voice just days before and the entire night I was only working
 on half my throat, and I said there was no way I could reach the high
 notes.  But he badgered me, reminding me there weren't any high notes in
 that song, and that my voice was husky enough that it would sound killer.
 I was also told that by the end of the day on drive-thru, I sounded like
 a chick on a phone sex line.  I got the number for Black Velvet and stuck
 it in my pocket, doubtful I would have that much courage anyway.

        I nursed that beer for a while; I got the sudden and obscure urge
 to dance.  I don't dance.  Ever.  But, some wonderful, magical disco tune
 came on and I just had to move my ass.  That right there was a sure
 testament to the fact that I had been drinking pretty decently.

        Beer #7:

        I was still dancing every so often.  Jenny and I got up to sing
 our song to Patti, "Down On The Corner" by Creedence Clearwater Revival.
 I didn't know a single word to that song before we sang it, only the
 melody.  Hell, can ANYONE understand CCR?  It was quite a revelation, I
 must say.  We eventually got Patti up to jam with us, which was
 originally considered an impossibility.  We had the whole place going; I
 think Jenny and I were pretty much the only people in the whole place
 who could actually carry a tune.  By this time, however, I was getting
 really rowdy, and when were were done, I was screaming "WHOOOOO!!" and
 jumping up and down.  To put it mildly, I was enjoying myself.

        Someone sang "I Think I Love You".  Someone else sang "Dancing
 Queen".  Yet another person did "Mickey".  It didn't matter how horrible
 people were at that point; it was all so much fun and so hilarious.  I
 was dancing like a complete moron.  Matt, my brother and I put in another
 song request, this one for all of us including Jenny, Nikki, and Sarah.
 I was heading to the bathroom more and more often.  I was becoming
 downright silly drunk.  It was more fun than I needed to have, really.

        Travis and my song finally came up, and the crowd just wasn't as
 hyper as it had once been.  The familiar music of "Don't Worry, Be Happy"
 began to blare behind us; there wasn't enough crowd reaction for us to
 be fully satisfied.  I picked up the mic and yelled, "ARE YOU READY TO BE
 HAPPY!?!" A few laughs echoed from the people.  I yelled again, "I DON'T
 THINK YOU'RE HAPPY ENOUGH!!" Someone called, "I'M HAPPY!!!" My brother
 topped it all of, booming into the mic with the voice of a large scary
 german man, "_HAPPY!!!!_" We finally had their attention, and we rambled
 off the song to happy faces.

        Beer #8 (although I admit at this point I was losing count):

        I finally decided I was drunk enough to put in that request for
 Black Velvet; however, there was only an hour or so left of karaoke fun
 and they had tons of requests before they would get to mine.  That didn't
 bother me; I didn't want to do it anyway.

        Elaine's husband got up and sang "Lady" to her.  It was positively
 charming; we were all really impressed.  Some other girl got up and sang
 on her own, too, although she was too quiet and nobody had any clue what
 the hell she was singing.  I was kind of wishing at that point that I
 could've done my own song before them.  I wanted to be the center of
 attention.  Of course, I was pretty much drunk enough at that point that
 I didn't care how retarded I would've sounded.

        Some of the under-21 employees had me buying them beer.  Hell, I
 didn't care.  Some of the other employees, who had swore they would never,
 ever get up and sing, were putting in requests, although it was too late.
 I would've lived and died to see Chad, Tom, and Dave sing "Welcome To
 The Jungle" like they said they were going to.  Alas, it was not to be.

        Our names were called to get up and do our big group song, and so
 the six of us clamored up to the microphones, gathering around the
 screen, ready to jam.  One guy and two girls to each mic, the sudden
 jolt of "Love Shack" thundered into my ears.  And amazingly enough,
 everyone in the place was really excited about the song we chose.
 Travis and Matt executed near-perfect Fred Schneiderness, and between
 the four of us girls who could actually sing, we had at least half of
 the entire hall on the dance floor.

        "Your WHAT?" "TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN ROOF!  RUSTED!!!"

        I almost completely lost my voice screaming that line.  But
 everyone looked like they were having so much fun, and I was having so
 much fun, and I knew right then and there that the six of us had
 carried off the best performance of the night.  I wanted to cartwheel
 everywhere.

        Beer #9:

        Karaoke winded down shortly after that; we had run out of time for
 my song, my brother didn't get to sing "Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)"
 with Sarah, and many more performances were missed.  Trudy had drank
 approximately 1/5 of that wine cooler I had bought her hours before.  I
 got some glasses of ice from the bar and carried around a good two-thirds
 of her wine cooler in one hand, my final beer in the other.  I couldn't
 speak right anymore.  I was downright silly drunk.  Jenny was inviting
 people over to her apartment after everyone left, and Nancy and I took
 her up on it.  I stumbled around, hugging too many people and being way
 too loud.  And still, most of the people there didn't realize I was even
 buzzing.  This was all normal to them.

        I declared to Kim before we left that karaoke was now mandatory at
 every crew party henceforth, as was a bar.  I chased my beer down with
 the wine cooler and got ready to leave.  I gazed longingly at the karaoke
 machine, so alone at the front of the hall.  For one night, I finally had
 sang in front of people, I danced with them, I had a genuinely good time,
 and nobody thought I looked like a complete ass.  I don't think I
 could've asked for more than that.

        The six of us smashed back into the little LeBaron, headed to our
 next destination, somehow a little less uncomfortable this time.

 !!========================================================================!!
 !! (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS!    #451, WRITTEN BY: PHAIRGIRL - 1/21/99 !!
