Karaoke Korrespondent, Fried Chicken, and Some Bitch Who Has the Nerve to Mock Mike Seely at Georgetown's Marco Polo Bar & Grill

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Marco Polo offers an off night.
Two Fridays ago I met up with my friends, Mike and Cary, at the Marco Polo Bar & Grill

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Karaoke Korrespondent, Fried Chicken, and Some Bitch Who Has the Nerve to Mock Mike Seely at Georgetown's Marco Polo Bar & Grill

  • Karaoke Korrespondent, Fried Chicken, and Some Bitch Who Has the Nerve to Mock Mike Seely at Georgetown's Marco Polo Bar & Grill

  • ">

    marco.jpg
    Marco Polo offers an off night.
    Two Fridays ago I met up with my friends, Mike and Cary, at the Marco Polo Bar & Grill in Georgetown to watch the Mariners season opener and sing karaoke afterward. Unlike how I feel now, I was very excited opening day had finally come.

    We arrived just as the game started, and took a table on the other side of this big firepit they have set up near the entrance. Mike told me to check out the Sprint Cup Car they had on display in the back. I know nothing about NASCAR, but that was a pretty cool thing to see. What was even cooler was learning this place was known for having some of the best fried chicken in town. They cook it like the Colonel used to--in a pressure cooker so it comes out super-moist. We each ordered some breasts and thighs with jojos, and I could not wait to taste them.

    It was dead quiet in the bar at first, and none of the TVs were turned up to hear the play-by-play. That immediately told me that as long as the KJ got there at his usual set-up time, he was probably not going to wait until the end of the game to start the show, which was key because I was already drinking at a beer-every-half-inning pace. The second thing the silence told me was that there was a jukebox somewhere waiting to be played. I threw in a 10 and fired up 20 of our favorite tunes, but was disappointed to find there were no speakers turned on in our area. We barely got to make out any of the songs because all the speakers in the other room were facing the other direction. That was the first indicator that there could be issues with the karaoke sound as well.

    When our chicken finally came I loved it, but it was frustrating to eat at first because I was too hungry and drunk to wait, and the skin was so piping-hot it burned my fingertips. Never in my life have I tasted a breast that juicy. The thigh was awesome too (that's my favorite cut), but it's the breast that I've been thinking about ever since.

    The KJ got there around 8:30. I recognized him from Monday nights at the Little Red Hen and remembered him as being a really nice guy. As he started getting things set up, this big group of guys (around 20 of them) wearing white long-sleeved shirts and neckties took over the place. It felt kind of random since we were in a pretty divey place and they seemed a bit overdressed, but after taking a closer look at these gents, they all looked pretty shabby. It was like a used-car dealer convention in there all of a sudden. A few women came along with this crew. This semi-cute Asian-looking gal in a red miniskirt took over the table between us and the stage. She and her friends looked to be in her late 20s, and I jokingly told Cary I had my eye on her.

    It was around the seventh inning when the KJ began distributing books. As I predicted, he was not going to wait until the end of the game. Mike and I put in our slips right away. I was the first singer and sang "Rocket Man." The sound coming off the mike was very sensitive, and when I raised my voice to reach certain notes the sound would get distorted. I still delivered a decent performance, but the early crowd wasn't very involved. Mike opened with his standard, "Purple Rain," and experienced the same issues I had with the hot mike. The distortion was even harsher from where we were sitting. The chick in the red skirt turned out to be a total vomit. Cary and I saw her make this shitty face to her friends as Mike sang to show her displeasure with his voice. I wanted to tell her to fuck off right there on the spot.

    We each got another number in, but left by the end of the game. The used-car dealers didn't bring much to the table, and I wasn't about to wait through another rotation of them. A couple of them did this strange performance of Journey's "Faithfully." It's a pretty odd song for two men to sing. We figured out that one guy had the talent and the other guy (whom Mike kept calling Paul Giamatti) was just piggy-backing on his friend's voice. It was an off night.

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