On the outside they may be masters of business or politics. But here, they are only courtiers vying for her favors.
She doesn’t care about talent, persistence or personalities. Her only interest; those who were interested in her, self-absorbed to the point where other people were either accessories, or irrelevant.
The source of her power? Control of the clipboard and the microphone.
“Excuse me?” one of the plebeians asks, “I signed the list thirty minutes ago and I’m sure the last three singers signed up after me.”
“You don’t understand”, she condescends to explain, “we have a system here…”
Dedicated to the woman who runs Karaoke at The Ould Sod.
hehe, I like it.
karaoke? sounds fightening!
It was more painful than frightening.
I did karaoke about a month ago at a place on South Beach. I made “obscure 80s music” my theme for the night, and ended up singing “Birdhouse In Your Soul” by They Might Be Giants, and “Punk Rock Girl” by the Dead Milkmen. No one can stop the rock.
i might be self-absorbed to the point where other people were either accessories
–guess who
Someone who runs karaoke someplace maybe…?