(based on a true story)
Small town, Friday night. When I say small town, I mean it.
Everyone is gathered at the local pub/grill/club (?)/gathering place, for Karaoke Night. When I say everyone, I mean it.
You walk inside, past the bar where the heavy hitters sit, age and alcohol worn on their faces. Beyond them, a group of overage, under-dressed party moms awkwardly dance against each other, and beyond THAT, five hundred kids of various ages singing this:
It’s a fluke, you think. Gotta be. These kids don’t know what the song is about, and you’re pretty sure none of their parents are watching this horrorshow anyhow. Until. Until. UNTIL. Mom Squad joins in with the kids, and you know these children are their children and everything is fucked. A girl of perhaps 9 or 10 takes to the stage, solo, encouraged by her mom (?…no, can’t be) who is taking pictures of the whole damn thing, and belts out a country song about her man (huh?) cheating, cheating on her with some white trash ho.
WHITE. TRASH. HO.
You swear you’re not a prude, but you’re having trouble scraping your jaw from the off the top of your shoes. It’s a fluke. It was just that one girl, and those 499 other kids. Another girl gets up and sings some teeny pop star song that’s sweet and wistful and…age-appropriate? and suddenly you’re very aware that your drinks have not been strong enough all night, but you still get up and sing P.Y.T. well enough to pull off the call-and-response part successfully.
And then, a tiny boy and his tiny friend get up and sing a rap song (fuck, shit, bitch), but they aren’t exactly singing it except for the chorus, which mercifully doesn’t have swears. And again, another song containing ALL THE SWEARS, and again, and oh now a song about bringing sexy back sung by a pre-pre-teen, and you’re convinced now that these are not children but adults of small stature and it’s perfectly fine for them to be singing about hos and bitches and making sex and being sexy and KNOWING IT.
But the drinks aren’t strong enough to really convince you.
And there you are, in the place to be in a small town on a Friday night.