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I gotta say that I’m
not usually a karaoke guy. In fact, the mere thought of karaoke makes
my nards shrivel and a little bit of yak bubble up in my throat. It's
not stage fright or anything that gets me about the activity, but
the mere painful process of having to watch the earnestness of some
of the participants as they suck the life out of yet another classic
shit song like "Sweet Caroline." It's almost as awkward
as watching friends at a strip club ogle chicks named Mason and Georgia
like a starving men with a bloody steak. Granted this all pretty much
dissolves when my party and I are completely hammered and I'm exposed
to a roomful of good friends who want nothing more than to generally
embarrass themselves in front of their buddies. Such was the atmosphere
at Sing Sing. Somehow we landed a nice, spacious private room just
walking in off the street. I'm not sure if this is common, but thank
god we did, as the front, public room/bar had the feeling of some
East Village version of an episode of Will & Grace gone cabaret.
Though, this place is like the Greek Diner of karaoke. The book of
songs is endless, varied and ridiculously long. Finding what you're
looking for while drunk is next to impossible, but odds are you'll
stumble across something that will tickle your fancy. The amazing
thing is, based on the horrible caterwauling I heard coming from a
couple of the other rooms in the hallway when I went to visit the
restroom, we weren't half bad. But the hangover and laryngitis the
next day certainly were. [MF]
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