Sing it loud, sing it proud

I can't remember whose idea it was to go to a poolside karaoke bar.

She told me not to let her sing. 

I didn't listen.

I could tell she was nervous so I went first. My rendition of "Sweet Caroline" was met with pity applause.

She looked through the songbook listlessly.

I shot her a thumbs up and mouthed "go on" to her.

She began vocalizing. I didn't recognize the song, but appreciated the brave decision to go acapella until the bodies started piling up.

Men were drawn to her song, throwing themselves into the pool and floating towards her.

I splashed into the pool, desperately doggy paddling trying to break free of the song's hold.

I fumbled in my pocket for my earbuds wishing I had heeded her warning from earlier in the night.

"I know this is our first date, but I believe in full disclosure," she said.

I nodded.

"I'm a siren," she said.

"What?"

"I lure men to their doom with my singing."

"That's ok. I vote Republican," I said trying to deflect with a joke.

She wasn't amused.

"I'm serious. If the opportunity ever arises, don't let me sing. Once I start I can't stop."

The earbuds muffled her song enough for me to break free.

Mercifully her song ended. Feedback squealed when she dropped the microphone. She snapped out of her trance, looking at the carnage she had caused.

She handed me a towel.

Shivering, I asked, "So... want to go grab some dessert?"