Today James and I went to the Thai restaurant/mini-mart down the block for dinner. It was our third time going. The other two times there were several half-tanked Thai workingmen using the karaoke machine in the dining area. Tonight proved no exception.
We sat down with our papaya salads and pad thai. The karaoke contingent passed us the book of songs with shy smiles and bowing heads. A few minutes later they set down two plastic cups with shots of something brown that burned.
They shared their booze, I figured we owed them a song. I picked the only one of the six English songs in the book I knew well enough to sing, The Y.M.C.A.
I even did the hand motions. Our new Thai friends danced along. It felt like a party.
They refilled our little cups - cut with soda, thankfully - sang some more, and then rose to go, raising their glasses to us before they left.
That's one thing I really love about Asian culture, people are so much more open about singing and dancing. It's okay if you don't have Mariah Carey's pipes, here singing is a social activity.
America - shake those Puritan roots!
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2 comments:
sounds like good times!
i know you can sound like a squealing pig on the mic out here and people wouldn't care but i still refuse to do it (even tho' i might sound just a little better than a squealing pig). unless i'm absolutely wasted of course.
Singing and dancing is the Devil!
(violently tears out book of Psalms from Bible)
heh.
love ezra
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