Nikki Metzgar at 2:42 pm on February 9, 2012

Friday nights at PJ’s are a lesson in the human condition. On every other night of the week, the first floor of the creaky converted house functions as a sports bar for the Montrose old guard. They’re getting beers in plastic cups from PJ and smoking on the front porch.

On Fridays, there is karaoke upstairs. Karaoke that is ordinary but somehow also stunning. Like public singing at any other bar, most participants are somewhat drunk and men playing crotch guitar with the mic stand is not unusual. But unlike some karaoke bars that are filled with shiny 20-somethings taking shots, people from all walks of life come to PJ’s and bare their souls.

A large man named Marcel, who is wearing an oversize black and gold embossed T-shirt, might imbue Garbage’s #1 Crush with a surprising amount of passion while another guy celebrates his birthday by screaming Audioslave. At PJ’s, it’s difficult to predict what will happen on stage.

The man who takes the requests and runs the show happens to have a wonderful voice and often accompanies singers on a second microphone at his seat to make up for any hesitation or bad vocals.

Others don’t need any help, and can handle Linda Ronstadt perfectly on their own.

Given that PJ’s looks a lot like a seedy basement, with rainbow lights, covered windows and low-slung futons, it’s an unexpected place to be confronted so honestly with the vagaries of the human heart. Then again, it might be one of the most natural.

PJ’s Sports Bar
614 W. Gray
www.pjssportsbar.com
 

Wednesday 4:30 til 9PM 
$5/ lb. or 5# for 22.50.
Bbeer and bug specials each week