Sunday, February 3, 2008

Debilitating Karaoke Injury

It's dangerous, is karaoke.

I went out Friday night (February 1). I'd had the worst day at work I had ever had in my life. And it started at 8:30 am.

My cousin, the Guest Blogger, encouraged me to go out with them that evening; Karaoke night up at the club. You need the company of people who love you, said she. People who will make you laugh and feel ok again. Well by 6:00 pm, I was really not up for it. I was tired. Just really tired and not feeling like being social let along singing in front of people. But I went. Determined not to have a good time. I looked at my watch, figured 10pm would be a good time to get the hell out and not seem too obnoxious.

I was also determined to stick to my "never mix alcohols again" rule:

After one dirty martini and 2 cosmopolitans, I had finally warmed up. Decided I could be social. Work was a think of the past. Ahhhhhhh.

We were having a ball. Lots of people were there, the mix of music was phenomenal. Getting up to sing Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody"? Fun. Fun with a capital F. "I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me...he's just a poor boy, from a poor family..." We head banged, people in the crowd were head banging. We all started dancing and jumping around.

That's when I suffered my debilitating karaoke injury. Something in the vicinity of my calf twirled, twitched, and flipped around in my leg. I Kept singing, stopped jumping. Pretty much stopped moving. Hobbled back to our table. The night was over for me, well, it really should have been anyway; it was 1am. A far cry from my goal of 10pm. But I had fun and I really needed to unwind that day.

I'm paying for it now. My companions paid for it the following day, because if you watched the above Jim Breuer clip, well, they invited tequila to the party last and they were all feeling it's effects. My leg wound will take longer to heal I think. I've iced it, elevated it, had some myo-facial voodoo worked on it, taken 800mg motrin (vestiges from the root canals and head injury of 2007). My physical therapist cousin, Starbuck does not seem to think its a ruptured achilles tendon, though I suppose if it doesn't heal, I'll be off to the doctor for an xray.

They've all recovered. I'm still hobbling around like an 84 year old man.


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