Diggler and his friends retrieved me the other night to participate in birthday festivities at a local piano bar. Being that it was a school night, the bar was pretty empty. I was appreciative of this fact because that meant I could pay less for the songs that only I want to hear and, bonus, nobody would pay to stop them.
As I purchased songs, the birthday boy did shots – one after the other. The more he drank, the more notes he wrote to us, “Tomorrow is going to be hard for me,” “Straws are dangerous for drunk people,” and “I’m not handicap I’m drunk,” to name a few. None of us are really sure why he opted to write us notes instead of speaking with us, but we saved them because we figured they’d be good documentation of the evening.
About an hour before last call, a few more friends (a married couple) arrived – bringing the patron total to at least twenty. Luckily, they didn’t pay to stop any of my songs. I did, however, stop one of their songs. I couldn’t help it. It was horrible and, at these prices, I could afford to do so.
They (married couple) had only been there about 30 minutes when Diggler told me, “They’re swingers. I should have told you that about 30 minutes ago.” “Is that a warning?” I asked. “A warning and an advisory. You could probably get some pretty good material from them.” At about this time the pianists were singing to the birthday boy and toasting that he would ‘get some tonight.’ “I’ll stick it,” the husband told the birthday boy while making an oddly sexual facial expression. “Let’s go get sushi. Join us!” his wife told me. Before I could respond, Diggler looked my way as if to say, “Don’t do it.”
Not wanting to chance getting a roofie roll and having someone stick me, I respectfully declined and resumed singing “Hold On.” Besides the piano player, I was the only one in the bar singing the song. The birthday boy smiled my way and said, “This song. Everybody knows and loves it but nobody wants to sing it in front of others. Go you.” And go I did. Two weeks in a row ending the night singing Hold On – instead of getting ‘sushi’ with swingers, I plan to hold out of for someone who knows the words to The Dream is Still Alive and is willing to sing it in front of others.
And go I did. For the second week in a row I’ve ended the evening singing Wilson Phillips.