Robbery on the High Seas

While sailing on the Mexican Riviera (read: places I promise you don't want to visit) I was the victim of a vicious robbery. You see, Carnival has a karaoke bar, and singers can belt out classics all night long. They also have a special showcase where you can try out for a semi-professional musical revue to be performed on the last night. After seeing 2 horrible and 1 mediocre "Madonna's" I decided to throw caution to the wind and try out. I made this decision based on the following:

1. I have a fairly crap voice--but so does Madonna. Score!

2. I know my Madonna. I know the suggestive moves, the voice inflections, the tawdry looks. Naturally, I know all of this because my parents banned Madonna in our home, which meant I spent an inordinate amount of time studying Her Skankiness at the College Square Mall in Cedar Falls, Iowa. Note: they also banned Aerosmith and Cher. As if. Why would a straight 10 year old girl be into Cher in the first place? Who's next?? Bette Midler?

I digress. Back to the boat. I do my Madonna routine like a champ. And unlike the other girl who tried out, no one yelled "Yeah Right!" when I began to sing Like a Virgin. I'll always have that.

The crowd voted by clapping and yelling. Two were eliminated, and it came down to me and Julie-the-other-Madonna. They re-did the voting, and I clearly won, but it was close. The judge called a tie. They re-did the voting, and it was too close to call again. The judge called another tie. I suggested a dance-off to settle the score, and Julie-the-other-Madonna looked scared, which meant she had no moves. No surprise there. I could have out-vogued that clown any day.

Then, the judge makes one very bad decision. She decides to let the boat's resident clown, Pablo, decide who wins. Pablo, may I remind you, claimed earlier that he built San Diego all by himself. He is not a man that can be trusted. And, as you can guess, Pablo voted for the Julie-the-other-Madonna. Boo.

The last night rolled around, and I could barely watch Julie-the-other-Madonna perform. I wished it was me on the stage, and I felt like a sore loser. UNTIL I saw Pablo, who had somehow earned his way into the show as Elton John. He sang the first 4 words of Crocodile Rock, and then went blank. He spent the rest of the horribly-painful-to-watch 3 minutes dancing around like a fool while the crowd looked on uncomfortably, just waiting for his short reign to end. That's when I realized the entire boat knew Pablo was a loser, prone to voting badly. And if they knew that, they knew I should have won the contest. And that, my friends, is almost as good as being Kaari-The-Main-Madonna. Almost.