Ripping On A Prayer

This happily passed for "sexy" back in 1986



"Okay, all you drunk fucking idiots singing along to this shit, listen up."

It happened at work the other night. I was shoving greasy cutlery and wedding cake-smeared plates through the ancient, nearly-broken washing machine in the pub kitchen. It's quite a lonely job by this point in the night as the chefs have always finished and the front-of-house staff tend to be gathered together in the bar, polishing cutlery and wiping tables in the atmosphere of the piss-happy, bullshitting punters, the 73 flatscreen TVs facing every direction, playing every type of sport you've never even heard of and a stereo screaming Powderfinger songs at everybody whether they like Powderfinger or not. Right next to the scullery section of the kitchen are two doors that lead out to the restaurant floor. Taking place on the restaurant floor that night, was the drunk and desperately sad dance-along, sing-along final hour of an ugly wedding reception attended by beautiful young idiots...

...Macarena? Oh, yes. That's what you want playing on one of the best days of your life, isn't it? Fucking Macarena. That's what you want to remember. Let me tell you something. If I hired a DJ to do the music for my wedding reception and he played Macarena, I would kill him. I'm not joking. I would crush his skull with one of the PA speakers...crushing the skull is the only way to release the demon...

...Better Man...What the fuck? I have no problem with Pearl Jam, but a song about a girl with no self-esteem who's trapped in a relationship with a man she doesn't love at your wedding reception? "She lies and says she's in love with him, can't find a better man..." Happiest fucking day of our lives, honey!

The dishes were finally done. I had pulled apart the old beast, descaled it, hosed it all out. The benches were clean and all I had to do was mop the floor. As the mop bucket filled, another familiar noise came through the dining room doors...a drum and bass guitar intro...Richie Sambora's talking guitar...oh...shit...Living on a fucking Prayer.

The crowd were jumping around, screaming along to the words of the song when I punched out the DJ, grabbed his microphone and made that noise that they included somewhere in every episode of Ally McBeal where the record comes to a scratching halt, "Rrrrrrrrrrrrrr."

And that brings us to what I began this story with.

"Listen to the lyrics of this song, for Christ's sakes! Nevermind the fact that it's a shit song, listen to the lyrics: We've gotta hold on to what we've got, 'cause it doesn't make a difference if we make it or not. That doesn't even make any sense!" I pointed and stared right at the bride and groom. "And if this is the way you want to start your lives together, then your marriage is going to fail. I'm sorry. I'm not bitter. I just think that if two people are going to get married, then they need to be a hell of a lot more sure about it than just leaving it to a fluttering, lonely prayer of all things, don't you?"

I don't think I made a lot of sense to the bride and groom, or anybody at the reception for that matter. You can't always get what you want, I suppose. Plus, I only had about thirty seconds to make my point before the bouncer came and UFCd me to the floor. Everyone in the room cheered as I was dragged out of the dining room. The bouncer shoved me back in the kitchen. The duty manager had words with me. The hotel management only just scraped out of having to reimburse the newlywed couple and their parents for all costs. As I resumed my floor mopping, the sounds of the partying came back and everyone was soon singing and dancing to Matchbox Twenty's breakthrough single, Push.

Your future, losers, I thought to myself. I knew that I had done my best.

And now, here's my new video, Questionable Song Lyics.

Enjoy!