November Challenge - 10/30…read more
This place is dank; your shoes stick to a floor that seems to be made of beer-velcro, and it smells like spilled booze and ammonia. But it's wonderful, and all the funnest people in town hang out here (and I'm not just saying that because they're my friends, although, my friends are pretty fun).
The main stage is for suckers. I say that, because the main stage is a surefire way to have a one-star experience at Nanta. You wait, you wait and you wait, and they let one guy sing the same One Direction (I keep wanting to call them New Directions, but that's Glee... also, Nude Erec... I mean, what?) song four times in a row before you even get your chance. Is that guy on the payroll? Because he's not even kind of good. I came here on my birthday with my sister, and they let two people sing the same songs 4x in a row, and never let my sister up on stage. Then, they told her they didn't even have her song. It was an extremely sour note to an otherwise stellar evening, previously spent at Anju and Commonwealth.
No, you want one of the gooey, "Holy Testicle Tuesday, I do NOT want to see what this room looks like in the daytime" private rooms that are each named after a famous city. There, you can sing your heart out in a handful of different languages, every song on each mucilaginous page if you want to; no waiting for wanna-be rockstar "I carry a grip of premixed Karaoke CDs in my glove compartment because I'm kind of a big deal" guy whose fan base will never extend outside of these walls. Make new friends by caterwauling to Butt Rock's finest ballads, while your clothes slowly soak up all the beer that seems to be all over everything.
Sit down, stay a while, go home and take a fully clothed Crying Game-esque shower. Isn't that what your 20's are all about?