At Least They Had Their Teeth...
I went to Cafe Posada Friday night with the Crime Dog and the Fetching Mrs. Crime Dog for karaoke. My, what an interesting evening. The place was packed with what I will kindy call Local Yokels. Not quite Deliverance folks but still somewhat scary. They reminded me of the farm folk in the Midwest where the sun, drinking and smoking makes everyone look like they're 50 when they're really in their 20s.
I did my standard survey for boys and it was like "No, no, no, ohmigod no!" Everyone but the three of us was chain smoking and throwing back quite a bit of alcohol. They all looked like they'd spent the morning on the tractor, the afternoon at the bar and were settled in until closing time.
One woman, that we nicknamed "Braces Lady", was drinking Long Islands and stumbling into everyone. She was also dirty dancing and it wasn't exactly pretty. I'd put money on it that she took a face plant before the night was over.
The karaoke ranged from the truly horrible to really damn good. There were a lot of impressive voices in that room. Crime Dog performed three Buffett tunes and we were pretty sure no one knew anything but Volcano. He did get the joint to sing along on that one.
We headed out after a couple of hours and I jumped right into the shower when I got home. The smoke had even permeated through to the money in my pocket. Funny how used to today's smokeless world I've gotten. Back in my bar days, we were out in that environment every night and didn't think twice about it. Now, my eyes start watering within minutes and I'm hacking and sneezing like a wheezy asthmatic whose only a small step away from needing an iron lung.
I did my standard survey for boys and it was like "No, no, no, ohmigod no!" Everyone but the three of us was chain smoking and throwing back quite a bit of alcohol. They all looked like they'd spent the morning on the tractor, the afternoon at the bar and were settled in until closing time.
One woman, that we nicknamed "Braces Lady", was drinking Long Islands and stumbling into everyone. She was also dirty dancing and it wasn't exactly pretty. I'd put money on it that she took a face plant before the night was over.
The karaoke ranged from the truly horrible to really damn good. There were a lot of impressive voices in that room. Crime Dog performed three Buffett tunes and we were pretty sure no one knew anything but Volcano. He did get the joint to sing along on that one.
We headed out after a couple of hours and I jumped right into the shower when I got home. The smoke had even permeated through to the money in my pocket. Funny how used to today's smokeless world I've gotten. Back in my bar days, we were out in that environment every night and didn't think twice about it. Now, my eyes start watering within minutes and I'm hacking and sneezing like a wheezy asthmatic whose only a small step away from needing an iron lung.