Music makes the world go round

Sometimes you work in an office with colleagues that synchronistically compliment each other. Each brings a specific set of talents to the table, which in turn get absorbed into the mother talent pool and becomes a greater entity than its individual components. Kind of like the Borg. My office had such a dynamic. Men and women with disparate and infinitely unique skills would meet everyday to flex their specialty muscles and bounce off each others.

I say HAD since we are no longer the team we used to be. Some of us have been abruptly pulled away to work for new masters. Again like the Borg. What you have left are splintered groups of a former team. Contributing to the mission but like shells of our former selves. Need I say it again, like the Borg?

That is until we are reunited not at the beckoning of our masters but for a much more primal call - to fill our guts with booze and enjoy the musical stylings that only karoake can bring. Wednesday night found 12 of us crammed into a tiny booth, colored twirling lights casting psychedelic beams on the walls, knees crammed to chests, microphones clutched in hands no longer programming or updating content.

It started off a nostalgic note: Dream by the Everly Brothers. It stayed pretty high brow with Shea squeezing out Blondie's One Way or Another, unfortunately playing 5 keys to high. Then it got silly with yours truly and Damarys lisping I know you want me (Calle Ocho) by Pitbull. Any song by a man named Pitbull is destined for disaster, especially I don't speak Spanish and Damarys had to heroically brave forward.

Drinks aplenty arrive. Manali must always do one retro song that has us simultanously laughing and blushing at the lyrics. This time it was a George Michael song, does it matter which one. Really now?

More revelers arrive. The newly married Mrs. ah Yang (I guess as she doesn't intend to change her name) and her hubby Peter. Jamie, the English hubby of Mariana shows up. The joint is packed but no deterring us, as long as we have room to sit the drinks. Ping shows us what he's been practicing at home no doubt (that boy MUST have his own karoake machine. how else to explain his impeccable timing and throbbing baritone?) Push and Mack the Knife.

Mariana doesn't usually sing but this time she makes a request. It's Big Balls by AC DC. Just read them and you'll know why we watched her in slack jawed shock. Michael sang a few Irish ditties very well with a pint of beer in his hand. Last thing I remember before fleeing the scene was another duet with Damarys. This time Push It by Salt and Pepa. We helpfully provided choreography in addition to the lusty lyrics.