Interventions can be difficult for all parties involved. I learned this the hard way when my roommates pulled me aside this year and told me I needed to change a potentially destructive habit.

I was not to sing in the room anymore.

My regular belting of anything and everything, ranging from early-2000s Destiny’s Child to mid-2000s Destiny’s Child, was beginning to damage my roommates’ emotional and physical health. They said my habits were simply unsustainable and must cease immediately.

But Muzette, a Korean karaoke bar in Adams Morgan, welcomed me with open arms, sans judgment.

Muzette offers a selection of more than 70,000 songs in English and a variety of East Asian languages, as well as a comprehensive selection of Korean cocktails, food and more standard alcoholic fare.

The real clincher with Muzette, however, is the private karaoke rooms they rent out by the hour.

My five friends and I came in at about midnight. We were pleased to see a young crowd at the bar – many of whom looked fatigued after a rigorous round of karaoke – and a well-stocked liquor shelf.

After a drink – or five – at the bar, the hostess led us to our singing room. We were originally hesitant to pay the $60-an-hour rate, but after seeing the plush couches, plasma screen TV, two chrome microphones and a sundry of disco-style lights, we knew the investment was a wise one.

At one point, one of the lovely waitresses walked into our private room. I thought she had come in to collect drink orders, and before I could even say “bourbon on the rocks,” she scolded me and said standing on the tables was strictly prohibited.

I wanted to remind her that interrupting my solos was strictly prohibited, and that standing on the table was not only recommended, but mandatory in order for me to successfully belt out the entire Barbra Streisand back catalogue.

I even tried to negotiate the situation by offering her a duet – a decision I immediately regretted. Everyone knows I would never duet a Streisand. Thank goodness she declined.

The night as a whole proved magical. I finally found a place where I could drink and sing freely, without the bitter judgment of my friends.

But I also managed to learn a few lessons.

When your five friends offer to split the cost of a karaoke room, that doesn’t translate to the price of admission to watch your one-man show. It means they shouldn’t have to pry the microphone out of your hand to get a song in.

Also, when singing Destiny’s Child’s “Bootylicious,” leave the twerking for home. The doors are made of glass.