Time flies when you are having fun. And I have tried to breath in every great smelling man in the club and remember every second of the reemerging me. I know this time will be over all to soon.
Ever feel that way? You realize the storm lays beyond the horizon, you know you want to stay safe and warm. You try the best you can to rejoice in the warmth of the sun, but your knowledge of the storm lingers in your mind.
I have been here a week.
Now about this time I realize I need to go back. I also have a overwhelming feeling if I do I will die, my soul will shrivel and my body will follow it down that hole. That feeling helps me stay here and convince all my good seances that Cindy was raised in a way I was not. A very normal way. I tell myself this will be a good experience for the girls. I tell myself "isn't this a great opportunity for Cindy to really get to meet and bond with her nieces?" I tell myself one more week, thing nothing more of children, you are not Mumma, you are Butterfly the musician, you are a magical being and you are free. One more week will not hurt anything.
Anyway, I am working of sorts. The more money I earn, the easier it will be this winter to get food and clothes for them. At the club the owner has let me play for tips before the girls come on, as long as it is befitting of the beautiful queens. A lot of women artists. Before I leave the stage Mizty or another will come out and demand the patrons put money in my case. Oh, it works, you have a 6 foot something drag queen demanding you pay the little lady , they do.
During the day I am in my old stomping grounds. I have even gotten one or two gigs here and there in other clubs this week. First week I made over $500. That money will go far back on the farm. I can't believe I have come to the point where that is good money for a week. This week I should make more with the club gigs I have.
I put the girls out of my head for another week.
I have enjoyed the love and attention I get from the boys and girls of the club.
When I started playing down the street for a regular pub, I was shocked at the difference in the vibe.
I looked around between songs for possible shagging material.
Man in his 30's at the bar. Well groomed. Not poor, at least that is what his clothes say. Dark hair , fair skin, white smile, fairly good muscle structure. I do one quick check of the hand. Nope, no wedding ring. This could be a winner.
I try giving him the eye while singing. He seems to be into it.
Good.
Hey being around the boys has not made me forget how to act around the opposite sex. I felt all sorts of confidences come back. Between sets I walk up to the bar and sit next to him. He looks down and me and smiles.
"You sing great, where did you learn?" He inquires with a smooth voice.
"thanks, I learned from an old delta blues man."
He looks at me like I just feed him the biggest line.
"In Kentucky. I lived in Kentucky as a kid. There were some Blues bars down there. He was my Grandparent's neighbour." Something in there was akin to the truth. I smiled at Mr. Prospective Shag.
He was in middle management. He was happy in middle management looking to climb the corporate ladder. It is good to be happy in what you do. We should all feel like what we do makes a difference. Even if it doesn't, or we are just cogs in the machine. We have to feel like a useful cog.
Well he seemed well enough for a shag after the show.
"You going to stick around for the second set?" I asked.
"I wouldn't miss it." He smiled a confident smile back. "maybe we can get a bit somewhere after?"
"Sounds great, I could eat something." A girl should never admit she is starving. I have been trying to save my money and not spend it on stupid things like food. And my new diet has me losing about 10 pounds. Oh I get feed from Eric and Mitzy. But with my playing that ends up being about once a day.
I walk away, I can feel him checking out my ass as I walk away, I swing my hips some.
I settle myself in for the second set. And just in case he forgot what might be on my mind, I played songs that would not let him forget.
You know I got so into the idea of sex I hardly saw the women come into the bar and sit next to him.
She was professional looking, tall and thin. She seemed so put together. Too put together for here.
It has been so long that I forgot what the educate is when another is sniffing around your perspective shag for the evening. Was it a bar stool to the head, an slight dunking of her head in the toilet when I follow her in to the ladies, or was it the clumsy dropping the drink on her.
I pondered these things when I saw him reach into his pocket and put on a ring before she could see. He saw me notice. He smiled a sly smile at me. She noticed me looking at her husband. And have me a "back off ,bitch" look followed with a " you are not even in my league" look for good measure.
I looked at her and smiled. I waved and said And this one is dedicated to the lovely couple at the bar."
She stopped looking at me with disdain. I looked at her with pity. I was her once. Trying so hard to hold on to a man determined to stray. I wondered when she would stop blaming other women for his transgressions. But something in her eyes told me it was soon. Something in his laughter told me he would be blindsided by it.
But in the end I left the bar without diner and a shag or a snog.
I did leave with more money than I came in with. And that was good.
I walked down the street to the now familiar dive, I hear the laughter and joyful song coming from inside. I turn in. The door boy, smiles and winks and lets me in. Eric sits at the far end of the bar admiring his beautiful mate. I sit next to him and give him a kiss on the cheek.
" No luck in getting lucky tonight with the straight boys, huh?"
"What?! I can't give my old friend a kiss on the cheek and a snuggle?" I smiled at him to tell him he was right.
"Ah huh." Eric said with such attitude.
"Leave her alone, Eric, poor girl had her heart tossed around a bit tonight. Or at least her hopes dashed." The bartender said, a tallish pretty blond queen. He has always been sweet to me. "anyhow, we all know what that feels like. Baby, what do you want, on me."
"Surprise me, Beautiful." I said with a wink.
"You do know how to make a girl feel good, Butterfly. Something fruity for ya, coming right up. "
Well, they kept coming up, one fruity drink after another until me and the bartender were braking down men on the stage, my head on his lap, his arm around me. It is nice to be so safe, to have strong arms and no worries.
After a while all I could think about was how perfect his nose was.
Time to leave. Bid my shining white princess adieu and go home to lay my bones down.
Friday, 11 December 2009
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6 comments:
Koko Taylor, Big Mama Thornton, and of course, my little Janis! Heaven.
And you keep going with the great lines like "Oh, it works, you have a 6 foot something drag queen demanding you pay the little lady, they do."
I wish I'd been at that bar that night when Butterfly left the stage. ;-)
The straight bar or the drag club?
I think she would have had enough of guys at that bar after the sleaze.
At the drag bar, what would you be wearing?
Tee hee. Ishat imagines Zorro in drag.
Ha! The straight bar... although I used to visit a gay bar (not a drag bar) occasionally when a female friend of mine worked there.
The thought of Zorro in drag reminds me of this soft-core Zorro parody, Zorrita . Not a bad film, considering its genre, but it was supposedly set in the 1800s, and stickler-for-accuracy me was appalled every time a woman took off her top and showed an obvious boob job!
In the early 1990s, Katarina Witt -- who was then my "celebrity crush" -- skated to Disney's Zorro theme on a program called Disney's Greatest Hits on Ice, and I remember remarking that if the Zorro I grew up with had looked like that, my whole life may have been altered!!!
Boob jobs in period pieces annoy me.
Did any of the boys hit on you while you visited with your friend in the gay bar?
I don't think we have any drag clubs around here.
Though, I think it would be great fun to have one in my town.
I wonder if I could get a grant to start one up? HMMMMM.
You can tell it is after midnight I am getting silly.
Are you really starting a coffee shop? or is it an Internet coffee shop? Or should I say a virtual coffee shop.
How is your mom doing? You said her care was taking you time.
Less people here, it's almost like having a private conversation.
"Did any of the boys hit on you while you visited with your friend in the gay bar?"
Nope. I'd like to think it's because they knew I was straight and wouldn't be interested. On the other hand, maybe they didn't find me attractive, which would bruise my ego regardless of the fact that I wouldn't have been interested.
"Are you really starting a coffee shop? or is it an Internet coffee shop? Or should I say a virtual coffee shop."
A virtual coffee shop, and it'll appear exclusively on the Simpson/Lynch Studios site I share with my writing partner.
"How is your mom doing? You said her care was taking you time."
Not really well, I'm afraid. It's complicated.
"Less people here, it's almost like having a private conversation."
Yeah, until that darned Sparkle shows up... (Just kidding, Cutie-Pie!)
Sparkle seems to be in hiding,
Maybe the queens scared her.
SNICKER
SF, you must have sent out such a herto vibe that it was obvious they were not your type.
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