AIMEE: It’s 10:30 pm and the gang’s here at Café Japone, all my bridesmaids wearing matching pink “Bridesmaid” tank tops. Once my sister secures the sparkly tiara on my head, out comes the handsome white thong that says “Bride” (rhinestone dotting the “i”) prompting my table’s reprise of the all-too-familiar chant: “PANties! PANties! PANties!” This is to communicate to me and the rest of the club that I should put the panties on over my long black pants — a daring look few could get away with.
Karen studies the karaoke songbook closely. The drinks arrive. We’re deep in conversation when I hear a sound that shakes me to the core, the tell-tale opening chords of “Hit Me With Your Best Shot.” I’m trapped in a corner and I don’t have time for everyone to get out or I may miss the first line. So I unceremoniously scramble under the table, Pat Benatar calling my name all the way to the mic. My table stands and cheers. The crowd sings along. I deliver an inspired performance. During the instrumental break, I break character to connect with the audience.
Before I start the next verse “the karaoke hog,” aptly named by myself and others, who’s been dominating the mic all night, sidles up to me: “Can I sing with you?” This is in the middle of my song mind you.
“NOOOO!” I roar directly into the microphone and I whack him, literally smack him. “Get out of here!!” The whole crowd feels gratified to see the karaoke hog humbled and publicly rebuked.
I belt the last few notes and return to my table as a hero.