This weekend turned out to be better than I expected. All except the chitterling lasagna that Aunt Clodine made for the family reunion bbq. I wish someone had warned me before I took a bite.
After meeting family I had not seen since I was 4 and a half, I went to catch up with some other friends and eat better food and play Rock Band. I’m great on lead, better on drums but I freakin rock on the microphone. I kept scoring a 98% on the difficult level. I owned that band! Well, I did till it was time to go home. But after all the drinking I had done, I relived the whole thing in my head untill I fell asleep.
The next night we decided to hit the bar, just before work tomorrow morning. This was the most drinking I had done in about two weeks – I think. The lounge had just recently opened, like so many in DC and I was already at home on the clean furniture. For some reason, I had completely missed the obvious karaoke machine in the front hear the dance floor. I sank into the couch, proud of my second Long Island Iced Tea debating if I would end my rock band career on a solo note.
As if to answer for me, Leah dropped a song guide in my lap. I guess that was my cue. My first song was just to get everyone excited Michael Jackson’s Beat It. I hadn’t danced like that in years. I started to sweat as if I had the jheri curl, too.
Embracing my third drink, I laughed through some dude singing Listen, an old lady who contended with a celine Dion tune and an Asian guy who thought he was a superstar. After that, it was time to be born again. I think my partner tried to “upstage” me?
Time to go home.
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