Friday, July 15, 2005


6:47 a.m. I sang, "It's Rainin' Men" and "Crazy Love" at a karaoke joint last night. I haven't done this since approximately 1992, but Judy really likes karaoke...enters competitions and this is what she wanted to do tonight.

Right now I am sitting at a table watching a group of three drunken women in their 50's sing, "Someday We'll Be Together", by the Supremes. They call themselves the Starbucks B#*CHES. They have great hair. Nice highlights. Fashionable cuts. Classy and pretty even though they are three sheets to the wind in a trashy karaoke bar in White Bear Lake, MN. I imagine them to be professional women, maybe coworkers, taking a night out to play together. I watch as the one in the jeans shorts throws her arm carelessly around the lead singer's shoulder and leans in to provide an unfortunate harmony. I am loving this. They finish and I cheer. Me and the five other people here.

A few minutes later, I watch Judy get up there. Judy has not changed at all in the past few years since I last saw her. She is wearing a strapless blue tropical print dress that she bought on her honeymoon in Aruba. The padded bra underneath has slipped a bit and her chest is starting to travel down toward her navel. I can see the lumpy indents from her too tight control-top pantyhose beneath the skirt as she sways back and forth with her eyes closed. She is singing a Selena song and is doing a pretty good job of it until she attempts to dance during the instrumental part. I giggle. White girl can't dance. Her lack of coordination has only been enhanced by the two glasses of wine she had at dinner. I turn my head away so that Judy won't see me giggling and notice that the Starbucks B#*tches are laughing and pointing at Judy. My eyes narrow. I feel like a protective older sibling. I can laugh at Judy, but nobody else better.

I formulate a plan. A plan for world domination.. Oh wait, not world domination. (I have been playing too much Risk lately.) No, I formulate a plan to bring the masses together in mutual understanding and love. Like those hippie-freak Coke commericials in the 70's. I find the perfect song and put in a request to the DJ. "Midnight Train To Georgia".

When the song is called I invite the B#*ches to come up and join Judy and I. We end up having a lovely time and there is riotous applause when we are done. (Nevermind that WE are the only ones applauding since the place has cleared out.) I find out that the B#*ches own a successful catering company. They were a group of women who lived in the same neighborhood when they met. Initially, they would rotate hosting weekly gourmet dinners at each other's houses. It began to get out of hand as they tried to outdo each other. Eventually, they decided they should pool their resources and so their company was born. Tonight they are celebrating their fifth year in business. The one in the jeans shorts has five children. I am amazed. FIVE children! She's got great skin. I comment on it and she demures. "It's genetic." Lucky. I imagine by the time I am her age I will have so much loose skin that I'll resemble a Sharpei.

So, we leave the B#*ches and begin walking the two blocks to my car. We cross the street in front of a car full of guys. "Hey! You ladies want to go to a party?", one yells out the window. Oh, for crying out loud. Judy waves and yells back that maybe she would. "No. You wouldn't," I say. I pull her across the street. Judy is flattered that a car full of young drunk men propositioned us. I don't have the heart to tell her that those guys probably would have hit on us if we had been cross-dressing football players in skirts.

I get into the car amid Judy's endless chatter. She tells me that I am prissy and always say the right thing with people. I agree. She says that I have a big butt. I agree. She says it's okay to have a big butt as long as your boobs are big too. I tell her that's logical. She tells me she's got a small butt, but she goes to the gym to give it shape. I tell ther that's great. Judy falls silent for a while. After a few minutes she tells me she is happy and says we should do this again sometime. I glance over at her. She has the seat back in my truck and is smiling to herself. I smile back and agree that we should definitely do this again sometime.


Nancy said...


Ugh -- control top pantyhose are the worst. Especially if you go through all the trouble of wearing them and it leaves a line!

Not worth it. Let it all hangout or go to the gym -- either one.

:) (Oprah says we don't have to wear pantyhose anymore...)

Olga said...

Judy has this astounding knack for devivering the perfect back-handed compliment. First, she back-hands you with an insult, "You have a big butt." Then she delivers the compliment, "But it's okay to have a big butt as long as your boobs are big, too."
And sometimes she says things that sound like it could be a compliment, but really isn't, "Your hair is so ORANGE today!"

Olga said...

And by the way, Polly does NOT have a big butt. That was wishful thinking on Judy's part.

Polly P.I. said...

Olga, is a coward. I tried to get her to come along last night but she started whining about having to wake up at 6am...blah blah blah.

I bet you're sorry you didn't come now! After reading about how much fun we had!

Serves you right.

Tao said...

You should go to Karaoke more often.
Or at least sing at you home.
It`s good for you health.

Olga said...

I am not a coward. I'd just prefer to have an evening that doesn't include drunken singing and control-top pantyhose.

Jeff Meyerson said...

Polly, I love that you can have fun wherever you go, even a karaoke place with only 5 people. You get them all singing together!

B-Dubbs said...

There's nothing wrong with big butts! More power to you, Polly, if Judy was right. Besides, it's more fun to have a little bit bigger booty than the average "white girl flat butt"! Olga, you might be looking into to this one too much...some of us are proud of our larger ASSets :)

B-Dubbs said...

Although, sidenote, there something wrong with a person who wears control top panty hoes...can you think of anything more heinous??!

Polly P.I. said...


No I cannot think of anything more heinous than pantyhose. Well, maybe underwire bras.

B-Dubbs said...

Very true!

Slyeyes said...

Oprah says we don't have to wear pantyhose anymore? Yeah, well she doesn't have THESE lilly white legs.

Austin said...

Yeah, I don't understand all the hoopla around pantyhose. I probably never will. I say go without, but that's just me....