Last night at karaoke, I whispered something mean about the Karaoke Jockey (KJ) to a friend.
"That KJ looks like she should be pushing a housekeeping cart at Holiday Inn. I should ask her for an extra shower cap..."
I know she couldn't have heard me. She was way across the bar. But karma caught up with me when she announced my name.
"And now, please welcome Hot Daddy to the stage!"
I sat there. Mortified. I refused to stand up even though I knew she was talking about me. I can't be known as Hot Daddy. I just can't.
I waited until she called my name again. This time she double-checked the karaoke slip and corrected herself. "Hot Daddy - oh - I mean Hot Toddy, come on up here."
Everyone looked to see who Hot Daddy was. They saw me and shook their heads. I could almost hear the whispers "He's not a hot daddy..."
The moral of the story is this:
Do not disrespect your KJ - no matter how much they look like a housekeeper. They have the power to make or break you.