Last Friday night, Eamon and I found ourselves at the Bong Ho, our favorite local Korean karaoke dive bar. Shiow, a long-time friend of young Roxi and the original source of knowledge about this oasis of off-key singing, was planning a birthday celebration behind the mic. So how could we not go?
Though he doesn't know Shiow, I invited our good friend, Mr. Christopher Piatt, theater editor extraordinaire and all-around man-about-town. He has taken up the mic at the Bong before (his "Mac the Knife" always brings down the house), and knows well the allure of this stinkiest of nightspots. (Yes, that is pee you smell. Pee and Raid ant spray.)
After reviewing two shows and enduring a commute that involved no fewer than three CTA buses, he arrived at midnight, just as I was preparing to leave. So, of course, my plans changed.
He'd missed my dazzling rendition of Billie Holiday's "Come Rain or Come Shine" and my signature show-stopper "Cabaret" (a la Liza), but he was lucky enough to catch my eerie evocation of Leslie Gore ("It's My Party) and Petula Clark ("Downtown").
Finally, as I finished a gut-wrenching "Hopelessly Devoted to You" (Olivia Newton John, Grease), he turned to Eamon.
Piatt: How does it feel to be married to a gay icon.
Eamon: In some circles, I'm considered a gay icon.
And ... scene.
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