I’ve been waiting to review the 15 Romolo jukebox for when I could get a group of drunk friends together on a warm Friday night. While they bee-lined for the bar, I bee-lined for the juke, with two crisp $1 bills already out and ready to go.
So it’s about 7:30pm, my friends are already girly-drunk, their annoying high-pitched voices screeching louder than my tunes. One co-worker is singing to Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer” and the other is talking over her, which is typical and what’s cute about girls-night-out.
Having never joined me on a Jukeboxin’ excursion, my co-workers all dramatically scream and shout in pleasure at my choices. How many times do I have to tell them that I choose the best jukebox songs for those
Caf
