Second-Time Karaoke Covid

I guess it was my fault. Kerstin would like the karaoke condoms to be accessible, right as you’re running out the door. In case of a karaoke emergency. I moved them, in a fit of spring cleaning, to the champagne bucket under the table with the car keys and hand sanitizer. 

It’s an antique from my grandmother, a “high hat” for 1950s parties, and this was the best use we found for it during covid, storing PPE.

Maybe not. Pandora lounge was packed Saturday night, and we probably got it through the song-thick air, not from a shared microphone.

Wildly mixed crowd. We grabbed margaritas and a table next to some Gen Z girls who had just ordered another round of tequila shots. Two Russian boys took the stage to prove themselves against Metallica’s Nothing Else Matters. A tall woman in a long black bodysuit, with long black braids, knew the many words to Bodak Yellow.

Luisa and Gus joined us, Kerstin’s friends, and then the Gen Z girls did a swaying, twerking, teary rendition of Breaking Free from High School Musical. A grinning, incredibly handsome Korean guy crushed every aching verse of Boyz II Men’s End of the Road, with three girls hanging off his tight shirt.

Hours drifted into the night. Hours of hot, sticky breath pulsed from the stage. Gus threw his head back and joyously tossed his hair, chanting with T-Pain, “I’m on a Boat!” Luisa sweetly sang Enrique Iglesias' Vivir Mi Vida.

A man who must have been over 70, bony and otherwise quiet, captivated the roomful of kids with a heartbreaking cover of “My Way,” from Sinatra.

Then Kerstin beamed at me, elbowed me in the ribs, and I stumbled through “Act Naturally,” channeling Buck Owens more than Ringo, letting the twang and hay bales cover my atonal searching.

It was after midnight, but Kerstin had put one more song in. She stomped and soared, bringing the bar to its feet, belting “You Make Me Feel… Like a Natural Woman" ...pointing at me the whole time. I was melting and immobilized, until a big guy next to me slapped me on the shoulder and gave me a crude look.

Then, two days later, two lines on the test strip. Rosy and recriminating. The first time Kerstin got covid, in 2022, was at the same karaoke bar! We had emerged again, into the boozy spring, just to be slapped down.

It’s been very mild, four years of vaccines have sunk in. We feel fine, if confined. I just like seeing her sing.