There used to be the greatest little bar in the city's Bail Bonds district, one that had karaoke nights. Geniusly, the proprietors would charge $10 per song to amateur talent who dared to sing selections from the deplorable ode to the '50s jailbait, Grease. While we can't recall the bar's name, its philosophy is what we remember most -- namely, that people in life should be charged a pretty penny to utter such nonsense as, "We go together like rama lama lama ke ding a de dinga a dong."
The fine folks at Grease Sing-a-Long -- a touring company from the eighth circle of Inferno bringing aural terror to the country this summer -- would be wise to remember this when they screen the flick at Dolores Park this Saturday. Because all of you who plan on attending should owe the city $10 per song. Boom. Budget crisis over. You're welcome.
[Hat tip: SFGate]