Archie G.
Yelp
Every single time I visit a new city outside of the Bay Area, I need to do at least three things.
1) See the sights.
2) Try a signature dish or food item from that particular city.
3) Karaoke.
Well, I had spent the day sighting seeing in Philadelphia with my dad and uncle. I tried an authentic Philly Cheesesteak sandwich (and the Yelp review is coming soon). After a few Patron shots and some delicious beers; I had the itch to karaoke, so I jumped on my Blackberry and found this place listed for Sunday night karaoke. At this point, I definitely know I need KA (Karaoke-holics Anonymous).
This place is a total dive bar. It's small, cramped, and dirty. This joint has a mixed crowd. Some people were watching the Eagles game, some were just drinking at the bar, but most were enjoying karaoke. The bartenders offer very strong drinks at low prices. A Patron on the rocks was $7. Nice.
The karaoke song selection was very extensive and had all of my favorite karaoke songs. I signed up for a couple songs and waited for my turn. The karaoke crowd was small, but extremely lively. Everyone sang along to the chorus of each song and clapped at the end of the performance. These were karaoke diehards with manners. No douchy frat boys or silly sorority girls singing lame songs in large groups. These people were "professional" karaoke singers. And it seemed, almost everyone somehow knew each other from Philly karaoke circuit or from the Locust Bar itself. And well, any good dive bar has that quality.
When it was my turn, the extremely casually dressed patrons were staring at me as I walked up in my slim fit pea coat, pinstripe dress shirt, form fitting jeans, and leather dress shoes. They were trying to figure out where I came from. It was obvious that I wasn't part of the regular crowd and nobody knew me here.
As I grabbed the mic, I realized that my dad had never seen me karaoke. And growing up, whenever he watched me play baseball, or soccer, or run track, I always got nervous. But I brushed the anxiety off and started singing, "Get Up (I Feel Like Being a) Sex Machine Pt.1" by the legendary James Brown.
It was tough to dance around since the place is cramped and the mic is not wireless (and had it been wireless the rating might have been higher). Regardless, I tried my best to sing, dance around, and "shake my moneymaker." The crowd was definitely into the song (and my antics). People were dancing. My dad was rolling his eyes (and smiling a little). My uncle was pumping his fist (and dancing a bit). At the end of the song, the crowd started to chant my name.
"Archie! Archie! Archie!"
If those people didn't know me then, they all definitely know me now.