Night Watcher

It's late by the time we reach the karaoke bar. Down a well-lit flight of steps, we end up in a cavernous, dreamily lit room. And then there are about 25 of us, crammed into a large karaoke room with two mikes. People I don't know, badly rendering many of the classics, the ones that everyone knows so we can all sing along. And yet, somehow in the night, we sound like stars. Each new song that appears prompts cheers from the beer soaked crowd, and with each pitcher, everyone becomes closer friends. I still sit on the periphery, only knowing one or two others in the room. This is prime people watching time.

I observe the guys in the room, who are more used to making public spectacles of themselves, singing their hearts out on any song from Metallica to Backstreet Boys. The girls, however, are broken into two categories: one is the girls who are secure enough with themselves to grab the mike and sing a song. They usually aren't quite secure enough to control their own mike, so share it with an equally inebriated friend. The main goal of these girls is to sing will appearing flirty and sexy. The second group of girls are the shy ones, the ones that probably love to sing at home, but are too afraid to sing in front of a group. They are probably longing to put in a favourite song, but instead resign themselves to sit and watch others butcher the tunes.

It is quite odd to be in a group of people that you don't know. You begin to notice things about certain people just by sitting back and observing quietly. And as the night continues on, people begin to drift off to home, to warm beds. Those that are left behind begin to form a new group, with new dynamics, shaped by too much to drink, music, tiredness, and the general disorientation that occurs in the wee hours of the morning. This is when you can really find out what people are like.