Late night gay bar karaoke blues.

"Hi everybody! My name is Hairy Kate Olsen and welcome to Friday night 'Hairy-oke'! We have a sign up list at the end of the bar for anyone who wants to sing, yell, moan a favorite song or two. Come sign up and sing! I'm gonna start the night with a quick little number to kick the night off, make everyone feel better about their efforts after hearing how terrible mine are! Hit it D.J.."
The song was 'Fancy'.
And NOT the Bobbie Gentry version.
Not even close.
Layonya is trashed. Rounding the corner, bouncing between and held up by Allan and Christine, folding the queen over the front desk like a beat rain coat. Allan calls an Uber. Layonya starts yelling - well over the music, even over the bass:
"HERE'S YER ONE CHANCE FANCY DON'TCHA LET ME DOWN...Oh my god I LOVE Reba. I love Reba so much! Did you know she wrote that song in like the 70's? That's like so long ago. Don't look at me I gotta black eye. I look so terrible! I just wonder again and again if I could just die without trying. Maybe somebody could do it for me."
"What, kill you or die for you?"
"KILL ME, KILL ME, KILL ME...no...wait...someone die for me? Could they do it where I can watch? Can I choose how they...no wait, wait, wait............"
Time paused like a traffic light. She was turning green right before our eyes. A bobble-head moment.
"...I'm telling you...there's no way with a unicorn that a garbage can could kick my ass. Not with stitches like this and a knife at his throat...not the unicorn. Donny woke up naked and threw that mutherfucker down the stairs onto the sidewalk...for real...he just walked away..."
"Hey, y'all, Uber's here."
They bounced her out the door and poured her in the waiting car.
Classic. Iconic. Timeless.
Every night is nearly over. Waiting for last call.