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sing. However, that all goes out the window when we hop in and hear Lil’ Jon’s “Get Low.” The five of us are practically fighting over the two microphones, screaming, “To the window / To the wall / ‘Til the sweat drop down my balls.” You know the rest. Our entire voyage to Santa’s Pub is spent singing raunchy rap songs, and no one seems the least bit unsatisfied. We arrive in the gravel lot in front of the spray-painted, triple-wide trailer bar and exit the cab the same way we entered—rowdy as f*ck. Now we’re ready to party, Santa style. Something tells me, though, that I’m not the only one looking forward to boarding the Karaoke Cab again. As soon as I get off, I start to miss our party-on-wheels. After several hours at Santa’s spent singing karaoke, chugging PBRs, and blowing smoke rings at the extremely low ceiling, we prepare to call Basil again. But Basil must have gotten tired of our singing, because Kal calls me, telling us that he’s too sick to finish the night. I’m impressed he was enough of a trooper to take us to Santa’s in the first place. On the way back, we work our way through a repertoire of bad country songs that we’re all a little bit ashamed to know, but no judgments here—it’s the Karaoke Cab, where you’re encouraged to act a fool. We arrive at our final destination and begin digging into our pockets and purses for crumbled-up dollars. Miraculously, in our drunken stupors, we manage to bring together our rental fee and a nice little tip to show some gratitude for a successful Saturday evening of awesome.

We all entered the Karaoke Cab anticipating a novel experience—something to write home about; but not necessarily something we’d make a habit of. After all, I don’t need anything that encourages me to drink more than I already do. But let’s be honest. I enjoy alcohol, with or without the Karaoke Cab. But at least with the Karaoke Cab, one of us is always sober. Also, did I mention it’s a party-on-wheels? So yes. I think I’ll save Basil’s dig" BECAUSE IF its in my phone. Because if I’m I’M NOT GOING not going to drop a questionable TO DROP A habit, I’m at least going to pick up a new, positive one. QUESTIONABLE I used to be the kind of person HABIT, I’M AT that said I could always drive, LEAST GOING no matter how much I’d had to drink. Maybe I could. My arguTO PICK UP A ment was that I never got inebriNEW, POSITIVE ated enough to justify getting a ONE." cab. Either I’m a liar, or I drink more than I used to. Or perhaps I'm a liar that drinks more than she used to, seeing as those two things are not mutually exclusive. Regardless, the moment I laid eyes on the Karaoke Cab, everything changed. My prayers were answered—the party didn’t have to stop. And now I had every reason to ride a cab. I owe it all to Basil Awad, Nashville’s premier cab driver/DJ.

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Profile for Native

Native | February 2013 | Nashville, TN  

Featuring Nashville's Justin Townes Earle, Karoake Cab, Kangaroo Press, Poetry Sucks, Odessa Rose, The Stone Fox, No. 308, Chucklet and Hone...

Native | February 2013 | Nashville, TN  

Featuring Nashville's Justin Townes Earle, Karoake Cab, Kangaroo Press, Poetry Sucks, Odessa Rose, The Stone Fox, No. 308, Chucklet and Hone...