Navigating Karaoke Etiquette: A Letter to Anne
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Chapter 1: A Night of Karaoke
Last Thursday, I attended the audition of a karaoke host named Anne, who had lost her weekly gig when her restaurant shut down. Many of Anne's loyal patrons came out to support her in hopes that she would be rehired. Anne works for a small company owned by Janet, which supplies karaoke equipment to various hosts. The earnings are shared between the hosts and Janet, with payment varying based on the arrangements made with each venue's manager, typically influenced by projected sales of drinks.
This particular venue, a social club, features a bar but does not offer food. With beer priced at just four dollars and soft drinks at one dollar, it's clear that profits will be minimal after compensating Anne, whose fee is likely modest. Janet made a brief appearance during Anne's audition, staying for around thirty minutes. She often checks in on her employees under the guise of a friendly visit. Regardless of Janet's presence, Anne feels compelled to enforce Janet's rule: only attendees who have made a purchase can sing.
As for how Anne determines who has paid, I suspect she does a quick scan of the tables, making assumptions based on the presence of bottles or plates in front of each person. Naturally, this method isn't foolproof, and since Anne is also responsible for DJ duties, she can't be expected to monitor the audience constantly. Consequently, instances of both false positives and false negatives are common. For example, there was an occasion when Anne allowed a man to sing multiple times, unaware that the water bottle he held was not from the venue.
Last year, I encountered the opposite scenario. At the time of Anne's check-in, my friends had hefty burger platters in front of them, while I was still waiting for my sundae. My friends, Rachel and Paul, thought Anne had inadvertently skipped me and approached her on my behalf. She reacted defensively, citing Janet’s rule, which was the first time we had heard it mentioned. (It would be beneficial for her to announce this at the beginning of each event.) Although Anne eventually allowed me to sing after Paul gestured toward my sundae, she unnecessarily cautioned me about the repercussions of not making a purchase.
Fast forward to last Thursday, when it was finally my turn to sing. Anne called me to the "stage," started the music, and then, leaning in closely, asked, “You bought something, right?” With the microphone in hand and ready to start, I was caught off guard and looked at her in surprise. She repeated her question, staring at me intently. I stammered, “Not yet — but I promise I will.” The thought of being sent back to my seat, just as the song's intro was finishing, nearly threw me off my game. (It certainly wasn’t my finest performance.)
I spent the rest of the evening simmering over the incident. Given the context — and the fact that I hadn’t seen anyone else reprimanded for not purchasing — I felt unjustly targeted. Moreover, her tone was confrontational, and the timing was particularly unfortunate. I discreetly vented my frustrations to a few friends at the table and resolved not to return.
The next morning, I expressed my frustrations vocally while walking with Cheryl, who was equally outraged and supported my decision not to return. During our conversation, I began drafting a letter in my mind to Anne, intending to vent my anger. However, the following day, I decided to approach the situation with a more composed attitude.
To clear my mind, I visited a local "pot-luck" book exchange and stumbled upon Dale Carnegie's classic, "How to Win Friends and Influence People," a book I had never read before.
Today, while immersed in the chapter that I will now refer to as "Bend-Over-Backwards: Devil’s-Advocate Diplomacy," I made a conscious effort to apply its teachings. I envisioned my letter to Anne, inspired by the examples provided in the text. The transformative power of validating another’s perspective became clear to me.
Dear Anne:
I was embarrassed last week when I realized the uncomfortable position I placed you in by needing a gentle reminder to buy a drink. I am grateful for your kindness in allowing me to sing nonetheless. I assure you that in the future, I will make a point to visit the bar upon my arrival.
Discover how to fold a letter elegantly and efficiently.
Chapter 2: Communication and Empathy
Explore the nuances of communication and empathy in social situations.