Archive - March 2011
recently attended an event called Drag Bingo.
And it was awesome. Play
a round of bingo. Watch a
Drag Queen perform. Repeat
for two hours. It was like
being in the world’s most progressive nursing home.
But with fewer colostomy bags.
show started with a group of not drag queens lip-syncing.
This was very worrisome. In
part because I didn’t pay good money to see people in cheap suits
dance badly. If I wanted that, I’d go to a white-friendly club at 5:30
on a Thursday. (Hi-yo!!)
But mostly because they were lip syncing Train.
Plus, I suffered from some self-induced false expectations.
I misheard the name of the troupe, and thought they were called
“The Wobblers.” And so
I immediately expected a group of new drag queens, still unsteady on
their high heels to prance on stage.
That would have been sweet.
Maybe even sweet enough to forgive them for doing a Train song.
here are some of my observations from Drag Bingo.
(Side note – Some of these observations aren’t just from Drag
Bingo, but were reinforced there. Some
had been confirmed in my youth when I worked at the Park Elevator in
Charlotte. Thursday nights
there were ostensibly referred to as “House Music Night.”
But we simply called it “Black Drag Queen Night.”
Because it was. And
I don’t mean that there were six or seven black drag queens there.
I mean, at the end of the night, if the clicker showed 300 people
had come through the door, 300 of them were black, and 297 of them were
drag queens. So I think I
know what I’m talking about here.)
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