The Karaoke Bar

"I think the new guy has a secret identity," Janet said.

"The kind of creepy guy in tech support?" Sam asked.

"Are you still mad about the 'Sam and Janet Evening' joke?" Janet asked.

"No, I mean, if you call that a joke," Sam said. 

"I thought it was kind of cute," Janet said. "I think he's nice."

"Oh, you think he's nice," Sam said. "Makes me wonder what you really think of me."

Janet lowered her voice. "I think you are kind of sexy."

Sam tried to look around the lunch room without being obvious. "I'll take it," he said.

Sam and Janet were that cute young workplace couple who think nobody in the office knows but everybody in the office does. Young, professional, and good-looking for everywhere east of Hollywood; very much the boy and girl next door type. Their vain attempts to hide their relationship from their co-workers had fooled nobody but themselves. 

"Anyway, you know I had a girls night with Lisa and Natalie last night and we decided to go to that karaoke bar on Islington, Along for the Song," Janet said.

"Weren't you short two Spice Girls?" Sam asked.

Janet stopped and looked at Sam.

"You were singing Wannabe in the shower this morning," Sam said.

"Right," Janet said. "Yes, we were short Scary and Baby but we still killed it."

"You certainly killed it in the shower," Sam said.

Now it was Janet's turn to check the tables nearby to see if anyone was listening. Or looking at them. And smiling knowingly.

"So, there was this guy, who was made up to look like Roy Orbison."

"Roy Who?" Sam asked, taking out his phone to Google 'Roy Who.'

"Orbison. Don't you have parents? The Traveling Wilburys? Nothing? They were like a Dad Rock wet dream. A Beatle. An Elvis buddy - Orbison. The Electric Light Orchestra guy, who also worked with another Beatle. The Jesus of Southern Rock, Tom Petty. Dylan."

Clicking on his phone, Sam asked, "How does anyone know all of that?"

"How do you not?" Janet asked. "You're a robot, right?" Her tone softened. "A fully functional, sexy robot."

Sam hesitated before responding. "Can we put that in the parking lot for now and perhaps revisit it later?" He handed her his phone. "So, you think this is the kind of creepy guy in tech support?"

"Exactly," Janet said as she scrolled through the images on Sam's phone. "He had the big, thick glasses, the hair, a dark suit with a thin tie, but I swear it was the new guy in tech support."

"The kind of creepy guy," Sam said.

"I think he was wearing makeup to make him look even pastier than he usually looks," Janet said.

"But you don't think that's kind of creepy?" Sam asked.

"Well, weird, yeah, but creepy?" Janet shook her head. "No." She shrugged. "I think he's nice."

"He was a quiet guy, kept to himself, didn't really have any friends," Sam deadpanned.

"Stop it," Janet said with a half smile. "You're just being mean. And you're starting to creep me out."

"What's his name? Do you know?" Sam asked.

"Tom?" Janet asked.

"That doesn't sound right," Sam said. "Ted? It would be kind of funny if his name was actually Roy, wouldn't it? Funny in a kind of creepy way."

"I'm sticking with Tom," Janet said.

"Well," Sam said, "I do like a good mystery. Maybe we should go out tonight, see if Roy Orbison makes a return appearance at Along for the Song."

"Only if you'll sing with me," Janet said. 

"Do I at least get to pick the song?" Sam asked.

"No," Janet said. She paused. "You're not going to sing with me, are you?"

"No," Sam said, smiling.

But Janet was not smiling. "You're going to punk out on me at the last minute, aren't you?"

"How can you know me so well and still be mad at me?" Sam asked.

"I'm not mad," Janet said. "I'm just disappointed."

*****

Along for a Song had previously been Rosalitas, a tex-mex cantina, and before that, it had been an Italian place, Donatella's. It had low ceilings, a long, polished, hardwood bar that ran the length of one wall and faced the karaoke stage, with about a dozen four-tops on the floor in between. Sam and Janet arrived a little after 8:00pm and headed to the bar.

The bartender was a large man who looked like he might've been the bouncer pressed into serving drinks after the regular bartender called out sick, with big shoulders and a neck indistinguishable from those shoulders, a short, unruly beard and slicked back hair, wearing a Hawaiian shirt that seemed to be losing the battle to contain the man's torso.

"What can I get for you?" he asked.

"Do you have any gluten free vodkas?" Sam asked as Janet scanned the room.

"Tito's do it for you?" the bartender asked.

Sam nodded. "Vodka martini. Very dry. One olive, please."

"I'll have a cabernet," Janet said.

"Coming up," the bartender said and went to work. "Hey, I know you, don't I? Posh Spice, am I right?"

Janet flushed, surprised by how much she enjoyed this brief brush with faux fame. "That's right, yes."

"You and your friends were pretty good. You don't know how many times I've heard Wannabe absolutely killed," the bartender said. "And not in the good way."

"Thanks," Janet said. "Hey, there was this guy in here last night who sang Crying, you know the old-"

"You mean Roy," the bartender said. "Yeah, he's a regular."

"So his name is Roy?" Sam asked.

"No," the bartender said as he put their drinks on the bar. "I mean, maybe. It could be, I suppose. We all call him Roy because that's his shtick, you know, Roy Orbison."

"I thought he was pretty good," Janet said.

"Pretty good?" the bartender said. "That man should not be singing in a karaoke bar. Orbison is no joke, let me tell you."

Sam sipped his martini and nodded approvingly to the bartender. "You said he's a regular?"

"Yeah," the bartender said. "Most nights. Usually hits the stage around 9, always done up like Orbison, sings one of the hits, has a drink - bourbon, Maker's Mark, on the rocks - and out by 10. Always toasts me with 'Sweet dreams, baby' when he finishes his drink. Nice guy."

Janet nodded and looked at Sam. "Nice guy," she repeated.

"So you don't know who he really is, then?" Sam asked.

"Karaoke Singer-Bartender confidentiality," the bartender said and winked. "And yes, I know that isn't a thing." He shrugged. "I don't. He's just Roy. Why? Childhood trauma. PTSD. Daddy issues. All of the above? Everyone's life is a tragedy and everyone else's life is a comedy. If he wants to be Roy Orbison, it's cool with me."

"You don't think that's kind of creepy?" Sam asked.

"This is your first time here, isn't it?" the bartender said.

"Yes," Sam said.

"You're here with Posh Spice and that's not creepy at all, is it?" the bartender said.

"Yeah but she didn't get made up like Posh Spice," Sam said.

"Do you want to tell him or shall I?" the bartender asked Janet.

"Actually," Janet said.

"Really?" Sam said to Janet. "But I thought you were missing Baby and Scary. How does that work?"

"They had cardboard standees of Baby and Scary," the bartender said, nodding to Janet. "Points for creativity."

"Cardboard standees?" Sam asked.

"They're Lisa's," Janet said. "She has the full set. Sometimes she likes to be Sporty and sometimes she likes to be Baby. Last night she wanted to be Sporty. Let's get a table and some food, while we wait."

While they ate cheeseburgers and sweet potato fries and waited for Roy Orbison, a tall, bald man who looked to be in his mid-50s sang a strenuous version of Abba's Dancing Queen, a petite, older woman belted out a surprisingly above average version of Joan Jett's I Love Rock and Roll, convincing a fair number of patrons seated near the stage to join her on the chorus, and a young man with Timothee Chalamet hair, danced his way badly through Rick Astley's Never Gonna Give You Up. All to polite but unenthusiastic applause.

Janet felt as much as heard the crowd murmur and looked behind her. A smattering of applause greeted the man and a voice called out "We love you, Roy!" The man, made up like Roy Orbison, a man who might just be the kind of creepy guy in tech support, smiled and waved in response. Did he recognize her? He seemed to look right at her but with those glasses she couldn't be sure.

The drums and guitar intro to She's a Mystery to Me played, drawing more applause and whistles from the crowd and then a hush as the man began singing, his voice first dark and intimate, then plaintive and soaring. Janet felt herself drift into the song. A secret love by night that cannot be acknowledged by the light of day. Maybe I am the star of this movie, Janet thought. She had been quick to agree with Sam that they should keep their relationship a secret but now she wondered how much longer she could go on like this. Whatever 'this' was. She looked at Sam. He was looking at something on his phone. Was he ever fully present with her? She wondered if that was a men and women/cats and dogs kind of thing. Is any man ever fully present? She watched the man on stage. She nodded. There was her answer, right in front of her. That man was in the moment. A man in a disguise telling you exactly who he is. She turned her gaze back to Sam. Who was the 'mystery girl' in their relationship? She touched his arm to get his attention and smiled. 

"What?" Sam asked.

"They're playing our song," Janet said.

"What?" Sam asked again. 

"Just listen to the song," Janet said.

"Okay," Sam said. "But I'm pretty sure you were right. I managed to get a couple of pictures. It's the kind of creepy guy in tech support. Definitely."

He finished the song and the people at the tables near the stage stood as the room filled with applause, more approving whistles, and the yearning voice that called out again, pledging their love for Roy Orbison.

Sam stood, and said, "Let's see if we can catch him at the bar."

"No," Janet said. "Let's go. I want to go home."

"Are you crying?" Sam asked, but Janet had already turned and started to make her way out.

*****

Janet had asked Sam to just drop her at her place and call it a night. The fully functional, sexy robot and Posh Spice scenario would have to wait for another time. After a strange and sad morning, Sam caught up with Janet at lunch.

"Hey! How are you doing?" Sam asked.

"I'm fine," Janet said.

"Are you sure?" Sam asked.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Janet asked.

"What did I do?" Sam asked.

"I'm. Fine." Janet said.

"If we get into a fight in the lunchroom, everyone will know," Sam said with a smirk. "About us."

"I think they've bought my story that you're my gay boyfriend," Janet said. "You pick out all my clothes. This blouse, in fact."

Sam paused and nodded. "Oh. Okay. Really?" he said.

Janet smiled and nodded. 

"I've been wondering why Mary in Finance keeps asking me what I think about her makeup and accessories," Sam said.

"And what have you been telling her?" Janet asked.

"When it comes to makeup, less is more," Sam said. "When it comes to accessories, yes a fitbit qualifies but you can never go wrong with pearls." 

Sam noticed the kind of creepy and/or nice guy from tech support at the cash register and waved. The man nodded back.

"What are you doing?" Janet asked.

"I'm being friendly," Sam said.

"Don't," Janet said. 

But the kind of creepy and/or nice guy from tech support was headed toward their table, with his lunch tray in hand. 

"Well," he said, "if it isn't Sam and Janet Evening."

Sam forced a smile. "Funny every time. It's Tom, isn't it?"

"No," he said, "It's-"

Sam looked at Janet. "See! I told you it was Ted!"

"It's Glenn," he said.

"Glenn!" Sam said. "Of course. My bad. Would you care to join us? We've been having an argument, well, not an argument, really, more of a lively discussion."

"Definitely an argument," Janet said.

"I'd say a discussion," Sam said. 

"Argument," Janet said.

"Anyway, you're a man of a certain age, if you don't mind my saying that," Sam said.

"Not at all," Glenn said. "All things being equal, being a man of a certain age is preferable to the alternative."

"Right," Sam said. "Good. Have a seat."

"If you're sure I'm not intruding," Glenn said, looking at Janet, who carefully avoided his gaze.

Glenn sat down. "So, what is it that you're arguing but not arguing about?"

"Janet thinks Roy Orbison is better than Elvis Presley," Sam said.

"I didn't say that," Janet said.

"Well, you said you prefer Orbison to Elvis," Sam said. "Same thing, really. Anyway. Glenn, any thoughts on that? Roy Orbison? Elvis Presley?"

"Interesting question," Glenn said. "You know they were friends and admirers of each other's work?"

"I knew that," Sam interrupted, turning to Janet. "Remember? I told you they were friends."

"No," Janet said. "I told you they were friends."

"Oh yeah," Sam said. "Right." He noted the look of suspicion on Glenn's face. "We were just talking about it, you know. Here. At work. On our lunch break," Sam said. "Two friends having lunch."

After an uncomfortable pause, Glenn continued. "Anyway, they didn't see themselves as being in competition. Apologies. I suppose that really isn't pertinent to the question at hand. So," he nodded to Janet, "I can definitely see the attraction to Orbison. That ethereal vocal tone. The range. He was special. But I think sometimes Elvis' talent as a singer is overwhelmed by his mythic personality. I think he may have been one of the first if not the very first one-name celebrity. Elvis. On the other hand, Orbison was almost belligerently uncool, with the 'Sunday Going to Church' suit and the coke bottle bottom glasses, to the point where you really had no choice but to focus exclusively on the voice. With Elvis there was the movie star good looks, the hips, of course, and his tragic rock star ending. He may not have had Orbison's range but his vocal styling is quite sophisticated and subtle. Elvis is definitely underrated as a vocalist."

"So, you're saying you're an Elvis guy?" Sam asked.

Glenn paused. "I know this is going to sound strange coming from a man of a certain age, maybe even a little creepy, but, I'm more of a boy band kind of guy. Backstreet Boys. NSYNC. One Direction. Jonas Brothers, if you'll allow it. BTS. That's my jam."

"Interesting," Sam said. "And not creepy at all."

Looking at Janet, Glenn said. "It certainly isn't wrong to prefer Roy Orbison to Elvis Presley. De gustibus non disputandum est."

"Is that Italian?" Sam asked.

"Close," Glenn said.

"It's Latin," Janet said, with just a bit of a tone. She took a deep breath and finally made eye contact with Glenn. "In matters of taste, there are no disagreements."

Glenn smiled. "Exactly so," he said. "Roy Orbison and Elvis Presley wouldn't want you to get into a fight over them." He paused. "Did that help?"

"Yes," Janet said. "Thank you."

Glenn grabbed the sides of his lunch tray. "Anything else a man of a certain age can do for you today?"

"There is one other topic we were, um, discussing," Sam said. "Secrets."

"Ah, yes," Glenn said. He leaned in and lowered his voice. "The secret of your heterosexuality is safe with me."

"The secret of my what?" Glenn asked.

"He means us," Janet said. She turned to Glenn. "So, you didn't buy Sam as my gay shopping buddy?"

"Look at the way the man dresses himself," Glenn said.

"What's wrong with-" Sam said.

"And he told Mary in Finance that a fitbit is an acceptable fashion accessory," Glenn said. "I mean, really. It clashes violently with the pearls. And who wears pearls these days?"

"Does everyone know?" Janet asked.

Glenn hesitated, not sure if Janet was sad or relieved to hear there was a crack in their 'just work friends' facade. "I don't know. I mean, I haven't shared my suspicions with anyone in the office. And no one has shared anything with me but, then again, this is probably the first casual conversation I've had with anyone else in the office since I got here." He shrugged. "New guy."

"I'm sorry," Janet said. "We haven't been very welcoming, have we?"

"Probably not your fault. It's never good when tech support is involved. Something bad has happened and likely won't get fixed in time for you to finish that presentation you put off working on till the last minute." He paused. "And I've never been all that good at making friends," Glenn said. "Quiet. Keep to myself." He shrugged and smiled. "You know."

"Why," Sam said. "Why haven't you, I don't know, outed us? Seems like that would be an easy way to make some new friends."

"Is it? Like I said, I've never been good at making friends but that doesn't seem right to me. Is that what you would do?" Glenn asked. "Trade some potentially hurtful gossip for the off chance a co-worker will, I don't know, pretend to be your friend and invite you to their lunch table?" 

"What? No! No, of course not," Sam protested, his face crimson with embarrassment.

Glenn smiled, enjoying Sam's discomfort just a little. "Secrets. Okay. One man's humble opinion. Secrets are what make us interesting. Keeping a secret is like wearing a disguise. They create an aura of mystery. Who am I, really? Who are you? Secrets are about what's important to you. What's of value to you? What are you afraid of losing? Or maybe what you're afraid of having."

"How do," Sam began and stopped. He turned to Janet. "How does he know about us?"

"I have eyes," Glenn said. "And as a man of a certain age I've seen this kind of thing before. I might've even lived it myself." 

"So," Janet said. "What do you think?"

"What do I think? About?" Glenn asked.

"About," Janet said, looking at Sam, "Us." She smiled. "Sam and Janet Evening."

"That's probably a question for someone who knows you better than I do," Glenn said. 

"Based on your experience," Janet said. "As a man of a certain age."

Glenn nodded. "Okay. I guess I'll drop a line from Elvis. Some things are meant to be." He paused. "And some things are not." He smiled and stood up. "Thanks for lunch. I hope we can do this again sometime." And with that, he left.

"Now that," Sam said, "was kind of creepy."

Janet tossed the remnants of her lunch onto her tray and stood up. "I hate you sometimes."

*****

Janet could hardly believe her luck, finding the white, sequined jumpsuit in her size. Finding the wig had been easy. A pair of cheap sunglasses and an old scarf and her look was complete. She took the stage at Along for the Song a little before 9:00pm as Elvis. She stepped up to the mic and scanned the crowd and saw him, standing at the end of the bar. "This one's for my good friend, Roy Orbison," she said.