Friday, December 15, 2006

The Place: The redundantly-named Nina's Coffee Cafe, Saint Paul, Minnesota
The Time: 10:12AM CST, Friday December 15, 2006
The Place: The redundantly-named Nina's Coffee Cafe, Saint Paul, Minnesota

We, the imaginary audience, step into Nina's Living Room Type Thing and immediately notice two things: one, it's packed with geeks, and two, there's an extremely attractive-looking older man sitting over there at the table with a laptop computer. He looks to be in his mid-thirties. He's wearing a black “Harley Davidson of Kuwait” baseball cap, sweatshirt, jeans and sneakers, and has wire-frame glasses and a short mostly-white beard. The man is a total sex dog. We noticed his cute ass earlier when he got up to go to the can. Hmm, we wonder if he'd consider sexing us down in the Unisex Bathroom....

We give our imaginary head a shake to snap out of it and head further into the Living Room Type Thing. We see that the handsome older man we noticed earlier is pounding away at his ancient laptop, alternately grimacing as if in pain and smiling evilly. Apparently he's writing something, Lord knows what, probably some dorky blog about dessert recipes. But wait – now we see him sit back, put a pair of headphones on over his Harley hat, close his eyes and smile beatifically....

Hi, everybody, it's me, Hulles. Thanks for the “mid-thirties” thing by the way, I get that a lot but it's still nice to hear. And it's sex god, not sex dog, get it right. I'm here at Nina's, and I'm about to give the performance of a lifetime. I've spent countless hours practicing and countless more hours working out to get in shape for this, and today is the big day, the culmination of all this work.

I'm about to chair-dance to “Beat It” by Michael Jackson. Wait, it's starting:

[concert volume in the headphones]

bing, bing, bong, bong,
bing, bing,
bung....

While the instrumental intro is getting my juices flowing and I start nodding my head to the drum beat, I should mention that I've watched the “Beat It” video about a gazillion times, more even than that one guy watched all the Smurfs TV episodes. I've memorized every move, every gesture, every facial tic that Michael Jackson does in the video. In fact, for the next four minutes and seventeen seconds I'm going to become Michael Jackson, even though I intend to remain sitting in my chair. (The 1982 Michael Jackson that is, not the creepy current version, duh.)

Okay, start silently lip-synching and making intense faces, there:

They told him don't you ever come around here
Don't wanna see your face, you better disappear
The fire's in their eyes and their words are really clear
So beat it, just beat it

All right, it's all coming together, I'm in the pipe, five by five. Little head shake, move the right arm, do that little sashay-thing that was so difficult to master, there:

You better run, you better do what you can
Don't wanna see no blood, don't be a macho man
hoo!
You wanna be tough, better do what you can
So beat it, but you wanna be bad

I am so ready for the chorus. My eyes are still closed, but I know that by now people in the cafe are probably starting to watch me. God, I hope they realize that this is a chair-dancing performance and don't call the paramedics because they think I'm having a seizure. Well, too late now, I'm committed. And I hope I didn't accidentally do that “hoo!” thing out loud, I might have, I get so into it. Who cares, it's the chorus, really intense facial expression, there:

Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it,
No one wants to be defeated
Showin' how funky and strong is your fight
It doesn't matter who's wrong or right
Just beat it, beat it
Just beat it, beat it
Just beat it, beat it
Just beat it, beat it oooh!

Dang, this is great! Although I might have hit something while I was flailing my arms, I hope it wasn't breakable. Probably one of those cheesy little lamps, oh well, who gives a shit, no loss. Quick turn of the head, gyrate the hips, ow, should have taken the wallet out of my pocket, shimmy the shoulders, there:

They're out to get you, better leave while you can
Don't wanna be a boy, you wanna be a man
You wanna stay alive, better do what you can
So beat it, just beat it brrrrrrd!

I am so on. That “brrrrrrd!” thing was hard to get right, sort of like a Spanish rolled-'r' sound. And I know I did that one out loud, I could feel myself spit. Too late to stop now, but I hope this doesn't get me eighty-sixed from the coffee shop. That would be a first. Lots of bars, sure, but never a coffee shop. Another shoulder shimmy, weird arm gesture, even weirder facial expression, hip gyration, ouch again, there:

You have to show them that you're really not scared
You're playin' with your life, this ain't no truth or dare ungh!
They'll kick you, then they beat you, then they tell you it's fair
So beat it, but you wanna be bad

Hot damn, the chorus again. This is great! Too bad I don't have a web cam, I could make a music video and stick it on YouTube. Chicks dig that shit. Head shake, hip thrust, grab my omijukis, swing my left arm, shoulder shimmy, there:

Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it,
No one wants to be defeated
Showin' how funky and strong is your fight
It doesn't matter who's wrong or right

Just beat it, beat it
Just beat it, beat it
Just beat it, beat it
Just beat it, beat it (heavy breathing) ah, ah, ah!

And now we're at the part I'm the proudest of – the Eddie Van Halen air guitar solo. I thought about doing all the weird gang dance shit but give me a break: I'm a guy, I have a vintage Fender Stratocaster air guitar, and it's Eddie Van Halen, for chrissake. Air guitar it is. I had to choreograph it myself since the video has the weird gang dance shit but I think it turned out pretty well. Slide into a G-chord, wiggle my fingers on the air frets, wave the neck of the guitar around so the wire thingies sticking out of the tuning keys shake, a sexy Eddie Van Halen smile, more finger-wiggling. Oops, hit somebody's shoulder with that note, probably the Lisa Loeb wannabe sitting to my left, although come to think of it unlike Lisa Loeb she has a decent body. Fuck her, this is art, you have to expect some casualties. Slide my fingers down the guitar neck, pick the strings like crazy, set guitar down, more dancing and lip-synching coming up, there:

Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it,
No one wants to be defeated
Showin' how funky and strong is your fight
It doesn't matter who's wrong or right

Shakey thing with the right leg, shoulder shimmy, grind hips, grab my omijukis again, not sure that was in the video but I'm starting to like it, there:

Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it,
No one wants to be defeated
Showin' how funky and strong is your fight
It doesn't matter who's wrong or right

Make intense face, move arms back and forth in a very cool fashion, shake head curtly, also very cool, wiggle hips suggestively, there:

Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it,
No one wants to be defeated oh no!
Showin' how funky and strong is your fight
It doesn't matter who's wrong or right

[fade out]

Yikes, that “oh no!” was definitely not lip-synched. Pretty loud, in fact. Didn't know I could hit that note. Well, time to open my eyes, although I don't hear any thunderous applause. It might just be the headphones.

Hunh. Well, I certainly got their attention. Looks like the Lisa Loeb girl got the hell out during the finale. And everybody else has pretty much edged away from me -- in fact they look ready to bolt for the door if I make any more sudden moves. Oh well, once again I cast my pearls before swine. At least there aren't any flashing lights outside on the street yet.

Should I get up and bow? Sure. Oops, there they go, didn't know that fat guy could scamper quite that fast. Cool, somebody left an uneaten bagel on their plate. To the victor go the spoils, I always say.

Serves them right for hosting that damn AA meeting the other night, heh heh.

Uh-oh, gotta go, the next track is “Billie Jean” and I've just about got chair moon-walking down. But here, you showed interest, take this air guitar pick.

She was more like a beauty queen from a movie scene....uh! (grabs omijukis)

-- Hulles

5 comments:

Lo said...

Love it. Do you do "Thriller?"

La Espia T. said...

Sounds exciting. I had a similar experience except it wasn't in a coffee shop, it was in my car.

Oh, and it wasn't Michael Jackson, it was Imogen Heap.

Oh, and I didn't elbow anyone but I did get fun looks at stoplights

....and of course I sang badly off-key at the top of my lungs.

Ok, so it isn't all that similar...but the spirit's the same!

Balderdash said...

Acid?

Hulles said...

Lo, I used to do Thriller but I had to drop it from my repertoire because there was too much drama and not enough music. But we could arrange a command performance if you'd like.

T., the spirit is definitely the same. This post is just an exaggerated version of what I do regularly when I listen to tunes at the coffee shop. And now I like Imogen Heap because you do. I'm so malleable....

Balderdash, acid? As if. I'm this bizarre normally. Can you imagine what I'm like when I drop acid and see my dead grandmother crawl up my leg with a knife in her teeth? (F&LILV, Hunter Thompson, btw)

Balderdash said...

HAHAHA.