I'm turning into a karaoke fan.
Before this year I'd been out for a night of booze-fueled warbling exactly twice. I was into it to a point, but since both events were work outings I was very inhibited. If you share a cubicle with someone, you really don't need to think that every time you ask for him to pass the stapler he'll think of that time he saw you keening like Judge Doom with your tie around your head.
Over the last two months, however, I've been out for karaoke three times, and the experience gets better each time. I don't even need to drink too much; if someone hands me a mike I'll try to sing along to anything, from "Toxic" to "She Caught the Katy" to anything in between. And that willingness was tested the other night, when we went to a place with a really strange playlist. The kind that has four songs by Kelis, and "My Milkshake" isn't one of them.
I was scanning the songbook arranged by artist, and toward the end of the B's I saw something I didn't expect: Bob the Builder. After a cartoonish double-take I took another look, and it was still there. So I scanned over to the song column, and there it was, plain as day: "Can We Fix It?"
I'm not sure which is more disturbing: That I chose to sing the song, or that I already knew all the words.