Bush Garden

Ah Bush Garden. If ever there was a 7 night a week karaoke institution in the ID it would have to be you.

I chose this venue to be my second stop on the week long Mr. E tour because after the relative safety of Mandarin Gate and the six other people that were in it on a Tuesday night I was hoping to drag some friends along to join in the fun of the Mr. E Karaoke experience. Since a large number of my karaoke posse was working on this incredible burlesque show called "That's F*cked Up!" in the International District I figured I could probably convince some of them to join me.

And join me they did. A whole load of them. We kind of took over the place a little. But something was amiss.

I didn't know it at the time but going out to sing karaoke as Mr. E with a big group of people I'm already friends with just doesn't work. It's like, showing up at a Halloween party and realizing you're the only one who wore a costume. Nobody came up to me and asked what the disguise was for, nobody called me Inspector Clouseau, nobody bought me a drink, nobody anything because I was clearly already having a lovely time with a bunch of people who, at the very least, did not seem fazed by my outfit.

Half way through the night Mr. E became Kat because it was just too freaking hot to wear that trench coat any longer and who was I fooling? There was no mystery here. Just a big group of friends complaining about the poor selection of songs, ordering stiff drinks, doing the Charleston while old men sing older songs, and occasionally getting up there and belting one out.

A fail? Not in the slightest. Mr. E got up on stage just moments after arriving and pulled out all the stops on "Oh Darling" and a little later he sang "Somebody to Love" so with the two song quota fulfilled I took of my coat, lent my mustache to a squirrel, and changed out of my sunglasses (you thought reading tiny karaoke song print in dimly lit bars was hard? Try it with sunglasses). I shared a duet or two, hooted and hollered, and then dragged my tired ass home. It was a great night, but I still had very little idea what I was doing or what I hoped to gain from it.

Another day, another karaoke bar.