I can’t sing. I know that I can’t sing, and so I don’t. At least, I don’t sing when someone’s watching. I mean sure, I’m physically capable of singing — and I’ve been caught singing in the shower when I thought no one else was home, and a few times in my car when I stopped at a light — but you know what I mean: I can’t sing well.
Consequently, the suggestion of karaoke has never appealed to me. I can’t imagine that I would ever want to participate, because I’d be too afraid of being embarrassed.
It’s bizarre because although I can’t dance either, I’m more than willing to make a fool of myself on a dance floor. I suppose it’s a comfort issue: When I dance badly there are others who are also dancing badly, so I remain comfortable even though I look foolish. Singing is different because more people pay attention to you, so it’s more intimidating — even when you’re in a dark bar with a tipsy audience.
So when my girlfriend Cassie got invited to a local karaoke bar, she asked her friend Sarah to “hold on a sec” while she proposed the idea to me. Cassie covered the receiver of her cell phone with her hand and explained “Sarah’s at a karaoke bar — they’re having a fund raiser for Janelle’s friend, whose house burnt down. Do you want to go?”
Typically, I would have said no. My mind would have immediately dismissed the idea because it would make me uncomfortable: I don’t drink, I don’t sing, and I don’t like smoke-filled bars. I therefore believe that a karaoke bar would not be conducive to meeting people with similar interests. Furthermore, it’s late, I’m cozy indoors, and I’d prefer to stay in rather than drive out in the snow and spend a few hours somewhere simply wishing I was at home.
Cassie and I have lived together for almost a year now, so she knew all that I felt before I even opened my mouth to reply. With her hand still covering the phone, she convinced me to go using one simple sentence: (more…)