We were seated around a small squared table, enjoying karaoke night at the Ponderosa Saloon. Generally, I do not attend as I get embarrassed by the terrible singers, but a little alcohol reduces my anxiety while more eliminates it.
Around this table, aside from me, sat Kimberlie Pettie, Kyle Blanchard, Alexia Sober, Shawna Whitmire then her daughter, Alexandrea. Sung was the song “In the Air, Tonight,” by Phil Collins, with its singular drum riff.
Never having been anywhere but my truck to perform, that is to say, beat on my steering wheel as if it were a drum kit, I was excited to show off my skill. I had no way of knowing that everybody else in the saloon had similarly practiced this in their vehicles as I had.
It was the solo that caused the problem for me. At our table, we were singing at the top of our lungs, and then we launched into the drum riff, and I, sitting next to Alexandrea, forgot about the beer and other drinks to my right.
Everything toppled over into Alexandrea’s lap. She jumped to her feet as I tried grabbing the bottles and cups to prevent more spillage.
She turned and raced to the back area where the restroom area, with her mother quickly on her heels. As I wiped up the mess and ordered a new round for the table, Shawna and Alexandrea returned, but the young woman left as Shawna sat back down.
While everyone was telling me not to worry about it, I was still embarrassed by my behavior, and because of that, I left shortly afterward. From now on, I will only play my version of that drum riff in my truck, where I know I will not spill beer or anything more than a soda.
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