Yes, that’s right. Your eyes do not deceive you. You read it right. A singing workshop.
Me.
Singing.
In public.
Cosmo seemed to think I can sing in tune. The last time she heard me sing while sober was when we were sixteen. With the distance of time, her memory had clearly failed her.
Seeing as it was for a good cause I decided I’d go, even though I knew I’d be inflicting my caterwauling on the other
When we started, I felt a touch self conscious at first, but then thought, ‘ah what the hell, I’ve paid money to do this’ and sang with gusto.
The song we were learning to sing was Oh Happy Day, with harmonies (plus my own special harmonies), Sister Act style.
After a few minutes, the lady standing in front of me moved away. She obviously didn’t appreciate some of the finer notes I was belting out.
She rummaged around in a bag and pulled out a bottle of wine. After quickly downing about half of it, she moved back. I sang louder, knowing she was in a better state to recognize my inconsiderable talent.
I think she did. She even turned round and, with a slightly cross-eyed, glazed look, smiled at me.
Others may have viewed it as a pained grimace.
More people began following her example by partaking in an alcoholic beverage or several. They ran out of booze and someone was dispatched to go and buy more from the shop round the corner.
It occurred to me that the regular singers had experienced this before. The reason this thought crossed my mind, was because of the speed at which the alcohol was produced and consumed.
They’d evidently learnt from previous events, that the only way to blunt any torturous noise enough to enable them to get through the evening, was to drink. Quite a bit.
I didn’t touch a drop, due to the need to drive home afterwards. However, I did thoroughly enjoy the evening.
Eventually, so did everyone else.
Those parents and children in Romania need never know what had to be endured by so few, to help so many.
