Bad Karaoke Wings - Part 1

So there is a bar in downtown LA called Bar 107. I think it’s the greatest bar ever. Remember how awesome you thought the bar in Coyote Ugly was when the movie first came out? That’s how awesome I think this place is. They have a great drink selection, great bartenders, great music, and most of all, a Wednesday night Gong Show karaoke. To top it all off, they have a judging panel that rivals the American Idol panel.

There are some great performances, but also some bad ones. If you are lucky enough to get through the whole song, then you will be judged by the panel and make your way to the finals at the end of the night. The alternative is sucking and getting gonged before the song is over. At that point people like to point and laugh as Bong Jovi, the show’s MC, grabs the microphone out of your hand and you walk back to your bar stool in shame. This has happened to me twice. Oh, you ask how many times I’ve made it through to be judged. 0. Yes folks, 0. All this time I thought I was a great karaoke singer. Well, I was wrong.

Now usually when I head to a bar that I know will have karaoke I have three songs in mind. Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline,” Lionel Richie’s “All Night Long,” and Eddie Murphy’s “Party All the Time.” When I walk into the bar I immediately know which song I’m singing. If it’s an all white crowd, Diamond for sure. If it’s mostly black, which tends to be the case at the Culver City dives that I like to attend, I go with Eddie Murphy. And if it’s a mix crowd, then I feel that Lionel Richie usually does the trick. After all, he has a white daughter, so you get some love from both sides. Now, when I perform these songs I kick ass. I have great stage presence and like to get the crowd involved. If the microphone is wireless, I’m getting out there and singing with every ugly chick in the bar, because that’s what the crowd loves. By the time I’m done with the song, people are giving me hi-fives and cheering. I feel like a bad ass. This did not happen at Bar 107. You know why? No wireless microphones and they have people who are not only judging stage presence, but also your voice. My voice sucks, but my ability to work the crowd helped me in the past. This fact is why I can relate some wing joints to a karaoke singer.

There are some wing places that have bad wings but an awesome atmosphere. They have every sport on TV, the waitresses are hot, and the beer is cheap. There are usually a lot of people there which adds to the camaraderie aspect of eating wings. So you leave this place feeling pretty cool. You think this place is good enough to take your buddies to and then something happens. You make the mistake of inviting a gay buddy along with the guys. Now you get there, and all of your straight buddies love the place. Your fat friend is getting tons of attention from the waitress with the big tits and obviously he thinks it’s because of his great personality, and not because she works for tips. Your jock buddy loves the fact that he can watch all the morning football games in one place. And your party buddy loves that there are $5 pitchers. But you made the mistake of inviting the one guy who sees this place for what it really is. That, my friend, is a bad karaoke singer with great stage presence. He’s there to eat wings, not watch sports and get brushed up on by fake titty white women. Unfortunately, your gay buddy can’t keep his mouth shut and has to burst your bubble. He tells you about how bad the wings are and opens your eyes to the place. But lucky for you, you’re straight and don’t give a shit about the wings and are happy to return to this crappy wing establishment.

When I think of this idea, there is one place that comes to mind. One place that advertises “Spicy Hot Wings” and doesn’t deliver, but you are blinded by the atmosphere. This post is getting a little lengthy, so I will reveal this place in the next post.