From there, we flitted across town to Takao, for a quick karaoke fix and to look at a bartender we'd heard was a beautiful brunette. She wasn't in, but a man with his back to the brightly lighted bar sang what I believed to be Dave Matthews; it was hard to tell without the whine. The KJ switched to "Dream On," doing a good Fiona Apple yowling thang switched up with a falsetto like Shakespeare's Sister, then hopped down from the stage to take drink orders. We did our quick, patented "What a Feeling (Theme From Flashdance)" (thank you, Irene Cara!) and then pliéd out the door.
Friday and Saturday and Sunday, I did other stuff, including but not limited to alcohol poisoning, sun poisoning and too much sexual stimulation. Now who's getting it done in the butt?