The Funasaurus is switching firms, pursuing better opportunities, and also conveniently taking off a nice, long, six weeks before starting his new job. With visions of Play Station III football dancing through his head.
Last night, some of his current co-workers decided to take him out for one, final hurrah. AKA- karaoke. The Funasaurus loves karaoke. I do not love karaoke, but I love The Funasaurus so I went for a little while. It was supposed to start at 8, but with nary a music menu book in sight at 7:55, you could sense something was wrong. We finally wrangled it out of the waitress that, well, the normal karaoke DJ guy got into a little (fist)fight with their bartender the other night, and had been promptly fired. They had a new chick starting tonight, this would be the first time she had ever DJ-ed. New chick was looking kind of frantic, in front of her computer, her lower lip squished between her teeth.
We ordered another round and got to chatting, but when we happened to look over again, new chick was gone.
This can't be good, I thought, as I watched a sad little look start to creep over The Funasaurus' face.
When the waitress was next wrangled (wouldn't that be a great B- country song? "Wrangling Waitresses?" If you are a B- country star, you may have it. Just don't forget to give me a shout out between thanking mama and the lord for your amazing gift.) we found out that apparently the computer had died and the DJ had run back to her office (!!! Far be it from me to question the way people run their businesses, but I had a good time imagining what a karaoke DJ office would look like; I pictured lots of headphones hanging on the walls and turntables where the desk should be. And a few disco balls stacked around the corners. That'd be an awesome office.) to get another computer to see if they could save the motherboard, or something like that.
I didn't need a magic 8 ball to tell me the outlook was Not Good, so I polished off my chardonnay, kissed The Funasaurus, and went home around 9:30, wishing him good karaoke ju-ju.
At midnight I rolled over and realized I was still alone in my bed, and thought, “Perhaps they were able to get the karaoke machine working, after all!” and At 1:00 when I rolled over, still alone, I was sure of it.
At 2:00 I couldn't go back to sleep. Don't the bars close at 1:30 on Wednesday nights?
2:30 I decided to get up and check my e-mail, seeing as how I wasn't sleeping anymore, and finally around 2:45 I heard the garage door go up, and so I decided not to call 911 to report a missing Funasaurus. Because, you know, I'm chill and not at all paranoid like that.
The Funasaurus was actually sober, however his coworkers were apparently NOT, and so he ended up not just staying late to sing, but then having to give them rides home. Who ends up playing DD on THEIR night out??? But we finally got to sleep. And guess what? We so missed the alarm to go running this morning.
I'm not even sorry.
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4 comments:
You didn't go running??? You could have stayed out after all...and not sang karaoke...not gotten drunk...and ended up not going straight home but, instead all over ding-dang Denver. Oh...you so missed out. ;)
I'm jealous of the Funasaurus' nice break from work!
And I don't blame you at all for missing running . . .
Karaoke is the devils music. It's usually a bunch of fat losers thinking they are so awesome at singing OR drunk people who don't give a f#@k. I personally need about a bottle of booze before I will think about singing I Will Survive.
Last night I went home at 11, and was sound asleep by 1. At 3, I noticed my husband wasn't there - and at 4:30 he stumbled in. After singing karaoke in a private room (a la Lost in Translation) with law school friends for almost 5 hours.
I'm so glad I bailed on that.
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