05.21.06

I am sure that there are more frightening things on earth (a pissed off black rhino, "We're from the government and we're here to help", frat boys, Titanic, etc.) but few things are more awful than an alcohol-serving, Chinese restaurant, karaoke bar 15 minutes before closing on a Saturday night.

Johnny and I wandered to Chopsticks just before it closed last night. Walked into an orgy of banality and bad singing. Funny? Yes. Pitiful? Oh my goodness, yes. Dangerous? Drunken dancers attempting to do some sort of swing-Latin-ballroom-disco flaily thing on a dancefloor the size of a CEO's conscience while someone sings into a mic with a cord is a mandate for disaster. Add glasses and beer bottles? Oy gevalt!

Amused myself by counting how many people in my line of sight fell on their asses. Six. In 15 minutes. That has to be some kind of record, doesn't it?

Two very drunk young women, dressed up and in heels, took the mic. They managed to mostly stay upright, though one took advantage of a convenient support post several times. Spraddle-legged and swaying, they sang a Courtney Love tune. Then someone went down behind my chair, distracting me from the singing.

Oh, these wild Portland evenings. Thank goodness I didn't add to the goings-on. I'd sobered up before driving from the Hut.

Gracious.

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