Asians and ballads

My friend Annie, who's Chinese-American, hates karaoke.

At some point, she laments, the Asians all start singing these long-ass sappy ballads, about 12 minutes long.

They sing crappy American ones, too.

I'm in the bus office on a Friday night, looking to book a ticket out of Hoi An forNha Trang. It's a popular journey, and in line ahead of me is a pissed off Aussie. He can't get tomorrow's bus out of Hoi An. I make sure I book the bus for the following night, which was the original plan. It's just me and the booking agent.

And three older Vietnamese guys, in the next room, drinking, smoking, eating. One is playing an old and outof tune guitar, both due to the bad acoustics and his bad playing. The three of them are destroying "unchained melody."

I start singing along, under my breath.

The booking agent, having just finished signing off on my ticket, grabs my hand andleads me into the next room. He invites me to sit and sing. I start singing Unchained Melody. My lyrics and verse were way off, but compared to this dude, I was one of the Righteous Brothers.

We're all smiling. One guy passes me a shot of what might have been vodka. Or bathtub gin. Or isopropyl alcohol. It did the trick, whatever it was. Another guy peels me a litchi.

Hooch and and a sing-a-long. That was enough entertainment for me tonight.