OK, so tonight some of us went out to celebrate AK's birthday first by having dinner at Caffe Boa and then by taking her to Burger Betty's to scandalize her with their drag-queen night.
But I think I ended up getting way more scandalized than AK did.
We're all sitting there on this couch, and at first I'm finding the thing really awkward because, honestly, I just don't understand the whole allure of drag queens for anyone really — gay, straight or otherwise.
But then it gets even more awkward when my drag-queen magnetism starts up. While she's singing her song, one of the drag queens comes over near our couch (I'm on the end closest to the center of the action.) and kinda opens her shirt to reveal a bra holding her fake boobs, which she shakes in my direction. I proceed to blush like a mofo. Then afterwards, during her little monologue that drag queen pins us as "the straight couch," even though that was only true of three-fifths of us, thanks to my blushing.
Anyway, I think it was the next drag queen who, right at the outset of her song-and-dance routine (and I don't know if this was prompted by Andrea pointing at me or if it was just full-out spontaneous) comes over and gives me a full-blown lap dance. Like on-me, crotch-in-my-face lap dance.
I don't think I've ever been more surprised in my entire life.
Well, after she had gone on to dance elsewhere around the place, one of the girls hands me a dollar to give to the drag queen. People periodically tipped the drag queens, and the members of the birthday party were all like, "Dude, she gave you a lap dance. You have to give her a dollar."
Then, all the way at the other end of the couch, AK's friend Chris says, "You should put in your fly." It sounded like quite the mess to get myself into, so I reverted back to grade-school tactics and asked, "Do you dare me to?" Chris did dare me to, so I unzipped my pants enough to lodge the dollar bill in there, and when the drag queen came back over she pulled me up onto the stage, had me lie down and then, uh, extracted the dollar bill... orally.
Yeah, but it's not over yet.
I forget now if this next part happened with that same drag queen or another, later performer, but at one point one of the drag queens comes over and points to a nickel that's on the ground near my feet.
"Pick it up," she says.
So from my seated position I bend over to get the nickel, unsure of whether I'll be allowed to retrieve it without incident and then be asked to do something with it or if my bending over is going to be used in the routine.
It was the latter.
As I'm about to pop back up with the coin, she pushes my head down and then proceeds to, um, rub her crotch on the back of my head. Although I initially tried to not think about exactly what was going on above me, I have since been informed — in detail — of exactly what body parts were just a few layers of quasi-fabric away from my head.
From there out, though, it got tamer. Some flashing of the underpants in my face, singing to me, pointing a clothes hanger at me (It had something to do with the song.), etc.
Anyway, after that excitement died down a bit, we went over to Amsterdam — which I had never been to before — for more drinking (which was probably not the best idea for AK) some talking and a little bit of dancing.
Luckily, there were no drag queens there... at least none in costume at the time... at least as best I could tell... so I was safe. But I had already gained the nickname of, yep, "Drag Queen Magnet." Awesome.
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