This time was different. For starters, none of us had any alcohol. Second, at one point the DJ played the Gummibärenbande theme, and nearly everybody in the bar sang along. Third, there was karaoke porn.

Ok, what do I mean by that? Well, the DJ’s karaoke setup was pretty slick: instead of just a black background most of the songs had a fake music video behind the lyrics. Different, but not so strange. Until, that is, we got to Endless Love.

For that song the karaoke video producers decided softcore porn was the way to go. So the whole time the Lionel Ritchie and Diana Ross standins are singing the audience is treated to the trashy-romance-novel-esque exploits of two very naked actors.

One of my friends asked if something like that would fly in the United States. Not a chance, I said. I forgot about a similar phenomenon, though: dirty karaoke. Let’s just say one time at the Legion Deb and I heard an… interesting song performed.

I think with spoons, as with many things, my standards have been determined by my childhood, by what my parents had. I say “had” because sadly now even some of the spoons at my parents house don’t quite fit my ideal (I think it’s the handle on those that gets me.) So add spoons to a list that includes Diet Coke, our couches, and much, much more.