Audition Karaoke

That neon sign on S Hoover St burns right through the heavy Los Angeles traffic haze. You turn off the main drag and walk straight into a parking lot that's always packed with sedans idling late into the night. It's a heavy room once you step past the front doors, buzzing with loose energy and muffled bass lines leaking out from every hallway.

You check in at the front desk where the staff hands over the remote control and a thick binder of tracks. The private suites range from compact boxes to sprawling spaces with leather couches and flashing LED panels. It doesn't matter if your group can't carry a tune because nobody outside your door hears the absolute chaos happening inside.

Ice buckets rattle on metal carts as servers drop off fresh rounds of drinks between songs. The remote lag is real, but you figure it out fast enough while cycling through three decades of pop hits. Time completely stops by two in the morning when the lights finally flicker on.