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Dance into the fire

A couple of years ago I was a regular for karaoke nights at a local bar. I met all kinds of interesting characters, had interesting conversations and hung out with interesting people. One night I got up on the stage to sing yet another song, then went back to my table for beer and conversation with my friends.

Then this adorable, fresh-faced twentysomething kid who was clearly drunker than a redneck at a cockfight approached me and started hitting on me and telling me I had a nice voice, etc.

“Your song really inspired me,” He said. “I can tell you are a really deep, meaningful person.” Then he went on and on and my friend next to me sent me a message that said “Hey, I think you need to take this call outside!” So I faked this emergency phone call and bid adieu.

A few minutes later the kid dropped and broke a beer bottle and was kicked out of the bar. For a while afterward he just stood in the doorway looking in, so I had one of the guys escort me to my car to make sure I wasn’t accosted by intoxicated, fresh-faced twentysomethings. Fortunately he was nowhere to be seen and I got to my car and my home safely.

Oh, that “inspiring,” “deep, meaningful” song I sang? “A View To A Kill” by Duran Duran.

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