The new scent for men to drive women mad! Just not with desire.

It happened again. Dana wrote about the first experience, Beer Goggles - Parts 1 & 2. Scroll down on the link and you'll see what I'm talking about. I told myself the night of Beer Goggles that I would not wear a certain red t-shirt to karaoke ever again. Now I need to add a red sweater to that collection of non-public shirts.

The evening started off great. Dana and I pull up to the karaoke bar, ready for our soda and some great singers. A group of singers were there and we actually got to hear a duet of Picture that we didn't hate. Horrible song, pretty melody.

The group of great singers leave and it opens the door for a young man celebrating his birthday to get up and sing. There are great songs to sing at karaoke. Neil Diamond is a popular choice. Joe Cocker works well. Any country song tends to go over well in the bar we attend. Metallica does not fit in well. The young man decided to sing Sad But True by Metallica. It was not pretty. Here's a clue - the words are on the monitor.

Dana and I are karaoke junkies. If you get up and sing, we will clap. We may not yell, "Whoo-hoo!" if you torture our ears, but we do clap because the effort to sing is appreciated. He got the polite golf clap. It was short.

This was his clue to meander back to his seat and down a few more drinks. Once filled up with the nectar-not-of-the-gods, he beelined me. I feel I now understand what matadors feel as the bull runs towards the red flag. Unfortunately, I don't have a deadly weapon hidden in my bra.

Bryan was wonderful. As this man came up to our table, he called me up to sing. I tried a new song, not a good one by the way, and he stared at me singing. As much as I did not enjoy the song I was singing, it unfortunately came to an end and I had to return to my chair.

As I sit down across from Dana, he sits down next to me. "May I sit here?" he asks.

Here is my problem. I don't like being mean. He's drunk and never really did anything bad to me (except for the Metallica - which, don't get me wrong, I like Metallica. This seems like an odd choice of music for me, but I do enjoy the occasional Metallica song). The inherent part of my character comes out and I say, "Well, it's the last song of the night. I don't care." He sits.

Leaning forward, he breaths, "What's your story?" He doesn't talk. He's drunk and slurring words. I think he said, "What's your story?" It sounded as if he said, "Whaaaaaaaaaaa blah u-ba sor-ie?"

I look at Dana and the telepathic thought occurs. She understands my, "Oh God, not again. I hate red shirts. Maybe I'll wear a tarp next time."

"Everyone's got a story," he starts in again. "It might be short, like I went to the store, or it might be long. What's your story? How did you get here?"

Well buddy, I made it to karaoke by driving my car. I had two options, walk or use a mechanical vehicle to cover a distance of space. At this point, I'm still not responding.

He leans closer to me and exhales (he doesn't really speak. I'm pretty sure the ability to use one's vocal chords in normal fashion has left him), "So, what's your story?" (Or, Whaaaaaaaaaa ya sor-ie?)

I have to answer him. I say, "We came to karaoke. End of story."

Here's a clue. If you are talking to someone, hitting on them in a bar, you can tell if they are interested in the way they talk to you. If they answer your questions with simple, straightforward answers and do not extend the conversation by asking you questions, they are not interested.

"You have a good voice." (Or as I heard, "Ya haf go boyce.")

I reply, "Whatever." Does he get it with this? No, no he does not.

Michael, singing the last song, is now finishing up his rendition of Johnny Cash's Hurt. He is doing a wonderful job and I want to enjoy the song. It's a great song!

Interrupting the wonderful singing by Michael (a regular at karaoke and a super nice individual) is the drunk man next to me. "Who sings this?" (Whooooooooo ingzzzz diz?)

"Michael is singing it now. The version he is singing is Johnny Cash."

"Oh, he's good." (O, ez goo.)

Michael ends the song and Bryan says goodnight to the audience. He notices the horrible state of affairs at our table. Walking over to us, he starts speaking to Dana and myself. While we are eagerly conversing with Bryan, the drunk man feels ignored and finally wanders off. THANK YOU!

I explain to Bryan and Dana the interesting 'cologne' this gentleman used this evening. Maybe it's because he kept breathing on me or it might have been the fact he smelled like he took a bath in golden suds, I was not attracted to his overpowering stench of beer.

I may not be a beer drinker, however I understand that some people do desire the taste of a good bottle of suds. That's fine by me. As I stated, I'm not a beer drinker, but my sense of smell can differentiate from someone toasted on Guiness versus Bud Lite. I don't even have a problem with people drinking, in moderation. It is when the top brain stops working and bottom brain takes over, men start annoying me.

Driving Dana home, we noticed a billboard advertising the "Great Taste" of a brand of beer. Notice the sign pointed out the sense of taste, not the sense of smell. Beer breath is not attractive.

I learned something at karaoke this week. I learned being polite gets you nowhere when someone has lost the ability of complex thought. I learned red is not my color (or maybe it is - that could be the problem). I also learned how Dana and Bryan can be lifesavers. The red sweater is going into retirement.

2 Comments:

At 11:40 AM, CarpeDM said...

Next time, I'm wearing the low cut red shirt (which I don't own so apparently I need to go shopping). Let's see if my "girls" can get some attention. They are long overdue for some ogling.

I loved this post, Beth. When something like this happens, the only thought that really goes through your head is "Oh, God, please make him go away." It's after the fact that you can look back and laugh at the silly drunks.

Why are we so nice to them? It's not like they're going to remember it. And I think Bryan (and maybe even Bobby) will have our backs.

At 4:39 PM, Matt said...

Always rememebr the occasional Big Brother that will have your back as well, I will always be there for you, just call. I am sorry that I was not there, I would have liked to have seen what would have happened if I was.
Matt
P.S. Should I wear my low cut red shirt next time? I bet I might get some attention with my bongos.....