I don't even know where to start... I've certainly been to my fare share of karaoke bars around the world, but nothing like Sam's Bar. Ever.
You walk in off the main shopping road, a surprising location, and instantly a burly bouncer stops you to demand an entrance fee. Like seriously, when have you ever had to pay to enter a karaoke bar?! But you pay, because you're tipsy enough to think that it is still a good idea, cause let's face it, nobody ends up in a karaoke bar sober, now do they?
It's a rundown place with spilled beer on the sofas and a faint smell of cigarette smoke and bodily odours. People give you a sideways look when you walk in. Now, this is nothing new in the supranational world of karaoke bars, so you flick through the massive selection of songs, make your choice and hand in your slip to the bartender. You settle down on a seat in the corner with your beer and wait for your turn.
A chubby young guy sheepishly gets up on stage. He's got way too much gel in his hair, and his pubescent acne is yet to clear up. The screen reads "Bad, Michael Jackson". You cringe on his behalf, and sink a bit lower in your seat through sheer empathy. However, it only takes the first two beats to realise what a fool you are; the crowd goes wild as the unexpected hero grabs his crotch and belts out every single high note perfectly. By the time he arrogantly hisses out his final "who's bad", you're speechless. What just happened?! You have no time to recover before you're taken away by a perfect rendition of a Celine Dion song belted out without any fear by a mousy girl who looks like a librarian. Followed by a fragile, model type headbanging and growling her way through Led Zeppeline's "Whole lotta love" in a way that leaves no man within a mile cold. There is literally only one of the usual suspects, a drunken bride-to-be, performing the whole night, otherwise it's just one amazing performance after another.
You feel like you've entered a parallel universe where the geeks are kings and the cool kids have been banished from town. Everyone here seems to know each other. Except you, that is. Which means that you WILL wait for your song to come up for about three rounds of everyone else singing. But you don't even care because after the first half hour you are mortified that you ever handed in that song slip in the first place. Luckily the mic and the sound system are top notch, which helps. Maybe it really is the technology, or maybe it's the shots you've had to take to plug up the courage to sing after all you've witnessed, but you could swear that even the regulars are cheering approvingly, rather than sarcastically. Still, you have an overwhelming sense of exiting as soon as your song is over.
I really don't know if I should give this place a full 5 stars, or 1, as I'm still so baffled by what goes on inside the guarded doors of Sam's Bar. So for now, I'll round it to the middle to 3 (which in no way actually represents my bipolar feelings of the night I spent there, but will have to be revised after subsequent visits. If I dare.). read more