It Has Many Forms, Just Like Food.

I went to my first African American Karaoke. This was different for me because I love mix crowds. I was just brought up that way, and I thank my family for doing so. Anyhow this event was being held at the Ink Well in Brooklyn.

At a regular Karaoke spot they are going to start on time because you have a time frame to follow, and time is money if you get my drift. There is also pen and paper in the back or front of the song book. You right down what you want to perform and turn your paper in to the karaoke host. Although I did have a wonderful time, this karaoke was a bit ghetto. First off, I didn't realize that Brooklyn was so far from me. I hate to even put this out there, but in this case it was true. I was two hours late, yet I was right on time. They were on CP time
(Color People); which worked to my advantage.

Once inside I got myself a drink and found a song book. They had the hugest song book that I had ever seen for karaoke. This was a good thing, but there was no paper or pen to write your song request down. The bartender handed me a napkin to use as paper. Luckily I had brought a pen in my purse. Other people were just running up to the karaoke DJ and telling him the ID# of the song they wanted to sing and then he would punch it in his machine.

People performed songs like : Backed that Ass up!, Go Low by Luda, Don't Want No Short Dick Man, and Gin and Juice and if you sung a song they really liked your solo just turned in to an obnoxious sing a long. For y'all that don't know. I like to slow it down. I usually do a little Jill Scott or Mary J or something around that area.

Sitting on the subway on the way home. A voice came over the intercom and informed the passengers that our route had been changed due to work on the tracks. This was not good. I have a horrible since of direction and I was over an hour away from home. Sitting next to some of the patrons of the ink well, I asked them if they knew how to get to the city. It is amazing to me that people can be from here or have lived here for several years, and still cant help someone like me with directions. As a matter of fact they were just as confused as I was trying to find the right route home.

I made a transfer to another train after talking to several different people about directions. It never occurred to me to just use the Internet on my phone to see if I could find an alternate route. That's what alcohol does to you. It was after 1A.M. and the train was packed. All type of different characters were aboard. A black woman who looked as if she was around her late 40's got onto the train. She had on a bright, yellow, big bird T-shirt, a pair of hot pink, plaid, pj pants, and some busted up black shoes. Out of know where she starts singing gospel at the top of her lungs. The song: What a Might God We Serve. I love that song. Part of me really wanted to start singing with her, but I talked myself out of it. I knew if I would have stated singing with her, I would have made an instance friend. Besides my boss warned me to
"never look crazy people in the eye!" I knew she couldn't be right in the head. She was throwing around gospel terms that didn't really fit together.

Once my stop came up. I rushed off the train only to find out that I was on the opposite side of where I needed to be. I took a cab the rest of the way home. It's times like these when I miss my car. I actually sold my car the same day I moved to NYC. Reason being it would be more of a hassle for me to keep my car so I got rid of her:-( Most people in New York don't even have a driver license. They get spoiled by New Yorks great public transportation system. Subsequently; most public schools don't teach Drivers Ed or Behind the Wheel. Which means you have people in their 30's and older trying to learn how to drive. That is why the driving here is so chaotic. At 16, 17, 18 years of age you believe your invisible. Learning how to drive is more fun. At 30 years or older your afraid you might die or kill someone else. You would be amazed how many pedestrians get mowed down by vehicles here. It's really sad.

Anyhow I did pay for this cab ride; although the cab driver informed me that he believes he's my future husband... Ha! I don't think so!