Pop It Off Already

The following things are all true. And no names have been changed, as there are no innocent.

Our friend BabyDave came to town from the city of those angels. And we cheered! And in his honor…we descended upon RockBar for RockStar Karaoke.  First, let me explain the RockBar:

The RockBar is a place where the walls are carpeted. It has a bar area and large dance floor. I’m fairly certain you can buy Peruvian flake in the hallway and there is a no-tell-motel surrounding it. Turn right out of the bar and–BAM!–motel lobby. It is on Colfax. That’s pretty much all you need to know.

I was the first to arrive, wearing a cashmere mini-dress and tights. I looked  little bit like Edie Sedgewick to be honest. And as I stood on Colfax, waiting for my friends to arrive the most wonderful thing happened.  A car slowed down. He slowed down a little more. Until he had stopped, and rolled down the window. I believe he was about to ask me “how much?” when he realized I wasn’t a hooker. I can only assume this as fact since he rolled down the window, leaned over the seat and then quickly sped off. So either he realized the answer would be, “Really f**cking expensive,” or he thought I might be a cop.

But that happened.

Eventually we ushered awesome into the bar and began to take over the giant ballroom dance floor with our ridiculous routines. There was a pretty incredible rendition of Meatloaf’s “I Would Do Anything For Love (But I Wont’ Do That)” complete with an awkward man singing both the male and female parts.  I followed with a mediocre “Jolene” before Pam kicked major Ac/Dc ass with “Highway To Hell.”  But it was just the beginning… For then, all of a sudden someone yelled, “Pop it off!”

Before I knew what was happening, half of the males in the bar had ripped their shirts off and were gyrating, topless, on the dance floor.

So that happened.

It was only made worse when I picked up the microphone to belt out “Don’t Stop Believin'” (because let’s face it, I never will).  Shirts of men we’d never seen before were suddenly off and the dance floor was filled with throngs of shirtless men.  And then “Total Eclipse of the Heart” happened, so clearly, those who had already popped off stayed off, and some of those who hadn’t yet then popped it off.

So then that happened.

But then this obviously not-so-straight guy got up and sang “Kiss” by Mr. Purple himself, Prince, and he refused to pop it off.  So I grabbed his drink, Shane grabbed his shirt, and before you could say “I just want your extra touch” this dude had popped it off.

Uh, so that happened.

And then my dress came off because it was cashmere and I was hot and really sweaty and Shane said I could wear his tee shirt (I mean, he had popped it off and all). So off came the mini dress and into the even shorter tee shirt.  But it was “Bohemian Rhapsody” so you really can’t blame me for disrobing in a bar were by this point 3/4 of the clientele is shirtless.

But clearly, after that happened it was time to go. And so off I went.

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