Because “Oki” Is My Middle Name

I just ate spaghetti covered in mayonnaise and sea creatures, which is pretty weird.


The little octopi were oddly good for my hangover, though, so I guess I’ll call it even.  Why did I do that to myself last night?  

Oh yeah, the funnest place ever!

So I’m a big fan of karaoke anyway because of how funny I think it is for a white woman in her 30s to be laying down some early ‘90s gangster rap.  I like to be that joke for people.  But Japanese karaoke is different, and even though my job is what brought me here, I want to quit it now and bring one of these things to Portland.

For starters, the singing shenanigans happen in a private room you rent out with your friends.  It’s a little place- you could probably set up a Twister mat, but you’d have to move the couches and drinks table- and it’s set up with an embedded wall tv for the lyrics, a couple of maracas, two mics, and a four-top of tambourines.  And the acoustics are absolutely Bose-worthy!  You don’t even need the microphones because somehow your regular voice is naturally amplified.  It’s just like you’re singing in the shower except your clothes are on and you’re dry.  Unless, of course, you rent the jacuzzi themed room because THEY HAVE THAT HERE!  

We didn’t actually hit the place with the theme rooms, but after researching this morning and finding out they exist… well.  Doing that.

The dangerous part is that they also have drinks service for the room, so whiskeys on rocks- because all drinks are on rocks when you’re rocking- keep appearing in front of you and you drink them without actively making that decision.

And then you find yourself engaging a table of strangers on the street- because they have that here, too- in a German conversation before you realize you need to remove yourself from the night and go straight to bed.

Theme rooms soon, though.  Anybody wanna come hang out with me?


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