You know how the hubs likes to sing? His passion for singing is only rivaled by my passion to have him sing for money. Because, if you’re good at something don’t do it for free, right?
We went to a karaoke competition in the Castro. Are you new to SF neighborhoods? If so, that is the gayborhood - aka the best part of town. It is clean. It is safe. It has manicured lawns. It has freshly painted homes. And it has the best local business puns, like a laundromat called Sit and Spin. And a manicure place called Hand Job.
It’s my fave because it also has a bougie Indonesian restaurant and a tapas place with killer paella. Yeah, we love this neighborhood. The last Wednesday of the month, a karaoke competition happens. The winner gets $100 - not much, but good motivation/excuse to visit our old haunts.
We walk in to a semi sparse bar where the host is in drag writing current artists on a spinning wheel. Initially, I panicked because I thought the karaoke contest involves Chris spinning the wheel to choose who to mimic. Names on the wheel include Beyoncé, Arianna Grande, and Madonna. We quietly sat in the corner waiting for things to start, nursing a serviceable Old Fashioned.
Then a man walks up and starts talking to Chris. He points to his wedding band and asks, “I see you have a band. Are you married?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Where is your spouse?”
I sat six inches away shocked that that was questioned. Because who else would he be married to than the girl sitting right next to him? Then I’m like, ah, yes, I am in the wrong crowd.
The man was a bit disappointed to hear he’s married to me. Then quickly recovers and told me how hot my husband is. Realizing that Chris might be a piece of meat, I thought it is in my best interest to not touch him the whole night - keep the mystique up and potentially gain votes. So I kept my hands to myself.
This is my first time in a gay bar, and it is hella weird to realize that Chris is the star between the two. But I sit back and watch this man randomly work up the courage to kiss Chris’s cheek (after I goaded him to LMAO). My very polite southern gentleman later told me he does not enjoy the feel of beard against his cheek.
If you haven’t heard Chris sing, you shouldn’t start with him singing Michael Buble. Because it is a panty dropper. Not gonna sugarcoat that. Obviously, I played to the crowd and told him to keep Feeling Good. Obvi, it paid off. He gained many fans, and won the $100 bill. Alongside some Crown. And a tiara. Yep, he won a tiara. Such a proud wife, I am.