Karaoke Queens

 

Let's get one thing clear: I can’t sing. That’s not to say I don’t do it: but I usually keep my tuneless singalongs to the bathroom, entertaining an array of shower gels and shampoo bottles.

Anyway, my best friend Manda and I had a shared love of Meatloaf: a guilty pleasure that neither of us felt the least bit guilty about. We would often talk about our favourite song: Paradise By The Dashboard Light, and how it would be a perfect karaoke duet. I felt quite safe in the knowledge that while I agreed that it would be an amazing song to attempt, that I would never be asked or attempted to sing it due to being tone deaf.

How wrong was I. It was Manda’s 21st and the karaoke was in full swing. I was feeling quite merry, but not nearly drunk enough to go near the stage. Throughout the night I rebutted Manda’s not so subtle hints that we should fulfil our “dream” and sing a bit of Meatloaf. Each time I refused, she looked even more dejected than the last time, almost as though it was going to ruin her whole night. I ignored the niggling feeling of guilty and went about caning a bottle of wine to myself instead. Within the hour, we were up on the karaoke, “singing” down the microphones, to a packed, if not slightly bemused, room.

Until that night I’d never noticed how long the song was. I’m not kidding: it’s about ten minutes in length, it felt like we were onstage for a lifetime. Everyone likes to watch their friend have a giggle on the karaoke, but nobody likes to watch a vocal marathon. We didn’t exactly leave the stage to raucous applause (actually, it was more like shuffling off to a collective sigh of sheer relief), but Manda was beaming. My reputation remains in tatters but I wouldn’t take it back. In fact, I quite fancy trying my hand at Bat Out Of Hell next. After a bottle of wine or two, naturally.