Do I have 666 tattooed on my forehead?
Here is a verbatim account of the conversation I just had with a drag queen who rolled up into the Hag House (a.k.a. the museum where I work):
Drag Queen: Hey, Sasha Fierce!
Me: Hey, girl!
DQ: I've lived in the neighborhood for 20 years and have never been here! Can you believe it?!
Me: [feigned shock and disbelief] No!
DQ: [removes sunglasses to reveal eyeliner and a penciled in beauty mark] I'm a diva, girl! A lot of people can't handle me because I love people and I just say what I think. You're a diva, too. [points at my outfit] Fierce.
[side note: I am wearing argyle and a headband. Decidedly not fierce, but I'll take it.]
DQ: Did you vote for Obama?
Me: Hell yes, bitch!
DQ: Do you know Jesus?
Me: [side-eye accompanied by the look I get when people ask me to do simple math] Not personally, no.
DQ: Are you Jewish?
Me: No.
DQ: Muslim?
Me: No.
DQ: Hindu?
Me: No.
DQ: Witch?
Me: Warmer.
DQ: Summer solstice! I can get down with that, sistafriend!
[side note: I'm not making this shit up.]
DQ: [said as she replaces sunglasses and sashays out the door] I like you. Have a magical day, honey, I'll come back and visit soon!
I love Midtown.
Sounds like a conversation I had with the host(ess?) of a karaoke night at Lucky Chang's once...
ReplyDeleteDrag Queens are so stupid (and terrifying). There must be a reverse IQ test you have to take in order to buy high heels in a size twelve. I have never once had a drag queen come up to me and say anything along the lines of "Did you read Freidman's Op-ed today in the Times?". Nope, its always "Gurl how much did those jeans cost?...can I have them?". Bitch, if your fat ass could figure out a way to squeeze into size 29 jeans, than you are too smart to be wearing that repulsive makeup.
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