After we left the Frontier Room, still licking BBQ sauce from our lips, my ladies and I prepared ourselves for the next activity of the night”¦ KARAOKE! Seattle has several fabulous Asian-styled karaoke bars that feature private rooms, thus sparing your guests the embarrassment of singing in front of strangers, and submitting them only to the judgment of friends.
But first, we went in search of a liquor store to purchase a banquet license and some beer so that those of us who were of-age could consume “merry libations” whilst singing. Armed with directions, we headed six blocks to the south, passing Seattle’s famous Pike Place Market, and taking several wacky photos along the way.
The further south we got, the less likely it seemed that we were going to find the liquor store, and the more late this made us for our date with karaoke. Finally, after NOT asking for directions, I manned it up and went into an adult entertainment store (read: porn & toys) to look for help.
To get some spare “man card” points, I bought myself a Playboy. Pretty tame, but it did have a tennis player on the front, and I figured it was even manlier to support sports and porn in one go.
We established that we were one block away from the liquor store, which closed at 6 PM, not 9 PM, as our friendly but apparently dyslexic host at the Frontier Room had told us. We hurried back to the car, only stopping at Seattle’s Famous “Lusty Lady” so I could dash in and get a few more man points for an exploratory visit. I’ve always wanted to peek in there, and it was less intimidating than I thought. But it smelled more like antiseptic cleaner than I ever wanted to experience again.
On the way back, we crossed paths with a bachelor party and the future groom looked about as gleefully embarrassed as I was. His friends were making girls sign his arm with a sharpie and take photos with him in costume. He helped me earn a few more man points. I don’t think these photos count toward my credibility:
Yes, he had a cabbage patch doll. I birthed it:
We got to the karaoke bar almost an hour late, but sang our hearts out until midnight. Here, I was with my sisters belting out some corny song:
We figured that the manly thing to do was sneak beers in, so I did, and wrapped them in pages from my Playboy. Boy, I feel really dumb admitting this, but I’m pretty juvenile sometimes, and the whole weekend seemed geared toward encouraging that tendency, so I just went with it. Mmm, those were some delicious Rainier Tall Boys.
After that, it was free time, so I suggested we go to Seattle’s notorious Pioneer Square for a little clubbing. We probably could have found classier clubs in Belltown, but I have a soft spot for Trinity, because it’s the first club I went to in Seattle that didn’t totally suck (and honestly, one of only a few I’ve been to”¦ I’m not much for clubs).
I just wanted to dance my arse off”¦ so I did! We took a few shots to help us ignore the slimy, sweaty, drunk guys who sidled up next to us at the first opportunity (they were just props!) and spent the rest of the night on the dance floor. I finally found one good dance partner (polite, more interested in dancing than groping me) and we were the last people off the floor as they closed down the club.
Back at chez bridesmaid, there was an embarrassing penis cake from the Erotic Bakery to finish up the evening!
It was 4 AM before we crawled into bed. Far too early the next morning, we dragged ourselves out of bed for an afternoon bridal shower at my mom’s house…