The sofa-woman came back.
Unhappy that her ranting at the show last Tuesday and her subsequent telephone calls did NOT result in my summary dismissal, this genetic disaster decided to lodge in the ladies' WC and break the lid to the cistern in her stall. I guess being in a stall for so long offers a natural comfort to someone with such equine proportions. Just to clarify for those that weren't there and missed that show (which will be pretty much everyone that might read this), here's what happened.
The woman showed up late in a very busy show and walked straight up to me, always a bad sign. See, some people think my official capacity as karaoke asswipe host has an analog in drive-through food service. Like my entire week has been leading up to the moment when YOU stroll up to me and I get the chance to serve you. She then did two things considered cardinal sins at my show: She made a request without checking the book and did it verbally. Now, I know a lot of what's in the book, and I can EASILY check it on my computer, but I've got shit to do during the show. My part is to run the show, make the funny and sing the good. Your part, dear listeners, is only to look up the songs (just to confirm that I've got them) and give me a written request. There is no karaoke I know of that lets people just stroll up and verbally tell the host what they want to sing and then walk away. So this woman was already in the shit. Please understand that there's a difference between not knowing the routine and just not giving a fuck. This woman CLEARLY thought she was doing me a big favor by granting me a performance, and at my show that dog will not hunt. But I digress.
A little later, because she didn't think she was getting up to sing fast enough, she and a bunch of her misshapen friends started singing at the top of their lungs, while another singer (a good one, not the regular shit ones) was trying to sing some Get Here. Again, dear reader, there is a difference between when I fuck with a singer, which is part of the show done for the entertainment of everyone, and when some bipedal bovine and her drunken lackies decide to drown out the singer on stage because they just don't give a fuck about anyone but themselves. Seeing a pattern? But wait, there's more.
In a packed show, she comes to me with that look on her face and says "Uhhhhmmmm, hi... When am I singing?"
Not looking up, I said "It'll be a little while yet." I got ready.
"Uhhhmmm, well we're sitting over there, and we're spending thou---"
"I don't... care..."
Her face registered shock- the same kind of shock her cardiopulmonary system must experience when she climbs stairs numbering greater than two.
Indignantly, she started to dig in- "Well, that's pretty bad, I mean..."
Again, I cut her off- "Honey, you have to wait just like everone else. There are a lot of people here, and they've all been patient. Their money's just as green as yours."
Then I walked away from her before she started to say anything more and I was forced to escalate.
For the rest of the show she walked around and complained about what an asshole I was (news to nobody). She complained to the waitstaff (didn't care), the bouncer (didn't care), the patrons (didn't care) and even the owner (didn't care). She did her best to fuck me over and got nowhere.
So she came back and busted a toilet cistern lid. Well, I guess she showed us. The moral of this (long ass) story is this: Don't fuck with my singers (my job) and for sure don't fuck with me. I don't ask a lot, I just expect people to be respectful with other singers, and sympathize enough with me to follow the retard-simple request protocol I've put together.
Sorry for the long-windedness. Sometimes the words, they just want out.
Unhappy that her ranting at the show last Tuesday and her subsequent telephone calls did NOT result in my summary dismissal, this genetic disaster decided to lodge in the ladies' WC and break the lid to the cistern in her stall. I guess being in a stall for so long offers a natural comfort to someone with such equine proportions. Just to clarify for those that weren't there and missed that show (which will be pretty much everyone that might read this), here's what happened.
The woman showed up late in a very busy show and walked straight up to me, always a bad sign. See, some people think my official capacity as karaoke asswipe host has an analog in drive-through food service. Like my entire week has been leading up to the moment when YOU stroll up to me and I get the chance to serve you. She then did two things considered cardinal sins at my show: She made a request without checking the book and did it verbally. Now, I know a lot of what's in the book, and I can EASILY check it on my computer, but I've got shit to do during the show. My part is to run the show, make the funny and sing the good. Your part, dear listeners, is only to look up the songs (just to confirm that I've got them) and give me a written request. There is no karaoke I know of that lets people just stroll up and verbally tell the host what they want to sing and then walk away. So this woman was already in the shit. Please understand that there's a difference between not knowing the routine and just not giving a fuck. This woman CLEARLY thought she was doing me a big favor by granting me a performance, and at my show that dog will not hunt. But I digress.
A little later, because she didn't think she was getting up to sing fast enough, she and a bunch of her misshapen friends started singing at the top of their lungs, while another singer (a good one, not the regular shit ones) was trying to sing some Get Here. Again, dear reader, there is a difference between when I fuck with a singer, which is part of the show done for the entertainment of everyone, and when some bipedal bovine and her drunken lackies decide to drown out the singer on stage because they just don't give a fuck about anyone but themselves. Seeing a pattern? But wait, there's more.
In a packed show, she comes to me with that look on her face and says "Uhhhhmmmm, hi... When am I singing?"
Not looking up, I said "It'll be a little while yet." I got ready.
"Uhhhmmm, well we're sitting over there, and we're spending thou---"
"I don't... care..."
Her face registered shock- the same kind of shock her cardiopulmonary system must experience when she climbs stairs numbering greater than two.
Indignantly, she started to dig in- "Well, that's pretty bad, I mean..."
Again, I cut her off- "Honey, you have to wait just like everone else. There are a lot of people here, and they've all been patient. Their money's just as green as yours."
Then I walked away from her before she started to say anything more and I was forced to escalate.
For the rest of the show she walked around and complained about what an asshole I was (news to nobody). She complained to the waitstaff (didn't care), the bouncer (didn't care), the patrons (didn't care) and even the owner (didn't care). She did her best to fuck me over and got nowhere.
So she came back and busted a toilet cistern lid. Well, I guess she showed us. The moral of this (long ass) story is this: Don't fuck with my singers (my job) and for sure don't fuck with me. I don't ask a lot, I just expect people to be respectful with other singers, and sympathize enough with me to follow the retard-simple request protocol I've put together.
Sorry for the long-windedness. Sometimes the words, they just want out.
I applaud the " I don't care" line. Her reaction is about as much as you could have expected.
And the request system you have setup is fairly standard .-.
I appreciate how you dealt with the damn fool; lord knows that I probably would have blown my top in the same situation.