Overture

   It was spring.  The year was 1990-something. In New York City, on the street in front of a Random Karaoke Bar, a group of 6 people, three men and three women, stopped to look at the sign.  Looking at one another, they shrugged and walked in.  A slight young man with short, shaggy red hair was holding the hand of one of the women, whose hair was up in a long ponytail tied with a blue ribbon.  The second and youngest man, of middling height and high energy levels, seemed more excited about it than his friends as he tugged his short-haired girlfriend inside.  The third pair, who seemed to be avoiding each other within the group, entered with strong reservations.  The tallest man hesitated in the doorway, but as the music from within reached his ears, he suddenly brightened.  An idea has struck.  This may be the very venue he had been waiting for.
    "Hey, this place is really rockin'!" said the youngest man.  His eyes sparkled as he made a beeline for one of the piles of paper that was a list of the songs available.  "Hey, this is all in English!"
    "This IS New York, dumbass," the tallest growled. "If you'd actually studied like you were supposed to..." 
    "The miracle is that you did," commented the pale-skinned woman who would not look at him.  It was hard to tell if she was being deliberately cruel, or drily serious. 
    "Oiy, Kitsune!"
    "Maa, maa...  Relax you two.  We're on vacation, we may as well relax and have a good time."  The redhead smiled, although he seemed more than a little exasperated at his friends' antics.  "Why don't we just sit down, order something to drink, and enjoy ourselves?"
    The ponytailed woman nodded her agreement.  "That's a good idea.  Who wants what?"
   After miraculously finding a table in the overcrowded room and placing their orders, the six friends passed around the song list.  The tall man nodded to himself several times as he perused the list slowly.  "Ah ha!" he crowed as he found something. 
    "Oro?"
    Without a word, the now-pleased young man rose, grinning, and made his way to the front counter, where a pleasant-faced young woman sat and took requests.  "You mean I have to PAY?" echoed through the lull between songs, cutting across the conversations all throughout the bar.  "Hey, wait, can you put it on my tab?"
    Halfway across the bar, five people sighed in unison.  "Some things never change," one of them muttered.