I just remembered another fantasmagorical moment of Zen from the other night. At my karaoke night at Charlie’s on Tuesday, there was an efficient German man named Hinni who had only been in the states for six hours. And lo! He sauntered up, all six and a half feet of him, in all of his German glory, red-faced and PBR-addled, slightly bouncy and a complexion with elasticity up the wazoo, smiling a thousand-watt smile, and belted out Sinatra’s “My Way.” What a perfect foray into American culture. Midnight at Charlie’s Kitchen s drinkin’ PBR and singin’ Sinatra. I tried to say something to him in German but I only know a few really dirty things and I ended up saying something to the effect of “Don’t fuck flat chicks” (brett mit warzen = board with warts).

Ah, Hinni. He also sang "Raindrops Keep Fallin' On My Head" but not before doing an acapella version of “Rapper’s Delight.”