Sunday, December 04, 2011

What a DRAG!

If you've been around awhile, you'll know my oldest nephew - JR Bubba Face (Shoosh you. Aunties without children totally get to play the obnoxious nickname card. And no one gets privileges to call him JR Bubba Face without my express permission, k?) - is a drag queen, Sephora Starr.

Today, he changed his Facebook profile picture to this:

Sephora Starr
Subsequently, several comments followed - mostly from my sister, Dr. J, and my cousin commenting about his uncanny resemblance to me.


Like I ever look that beautiful. If I tried to do that kind of makeup? I would (and have *cough*) wind up looking like a hooker. Also? If I ever tried to wear earrings that big, I'd end up getting one of them caught in an escalator and plummeting to my certain death...probably at Nordstrom's.'s pretty flattering that anyone would think a creature that beautiful looked like me.

Also? It was final proof - much to my chagrin - that I am not, in fact, adopted. *sigh*


So, I told JR Bubba Face that, the next time we see each other, he is going to have to dress me up in drag (Please! Like I know how to be a lovely lady! That would require...shaving!) and then we could go out together and be twinsies. Never mind that he's 6'6" barefoot and all muscle and I'm 5'7" (in the right shoes) and all squishy. TWINSIES, I say! Dammit. Just agree with me.

He agreed.

And then I was reminded of a story, a memory, an experience.

I was 21 and new to the bar/club scene. Most of my friends, at the time, were gay men of my same age - Brad, Chad, Franklyn, (Right, Said) Fred - and so most of my time was spent at the gay bars and dance clubs of Denver back in the day - The Metro, Trax, The Foxhole, Charlie's...


Charlie's is an institution in Denver. It's a gay country western bar on Colfax Ave and it is FAB-U-LOUS! *snap snap snap*

I love going to Charlie's! Seriously. You have not seen two-steppin' until you've seen two cowboys buckle shining (which means that, instead of facing one another, the two dance partners face the same direction, the hind partner, in essence, getting his buckle shined on the ass of his partner...I guess you'd have to grow up 'round these here parts). You've not seen line dancing until you've seen all lines full of glorious, glistening men...who aren't interested, one bit, in my bits.

Anyway! night, I'm at Charlie's with Chad. I'm young, naive, still girly (my proclivity for comfy pants not yet evolved) and I really really REALLY have to pee. I finally give in to bodily function and enter the restroom marked "WOMEN".

It. Was. Disgusting.

Seriously. Every stall's toilet seat was defiled with pee and two toilets were beyond defiled with...other stuff. I couldn't make, because no.

I hustled it back out to Chad. I was desperate. And he told me in that well-duh sort of voice, "Use the men's room, Silly!"

Off to the men's room I went (clearly, the Midori sours had caught up with me and I had to pee really really bad).

I was trying to be nonchalant about being a woman in the men's room. However, no one seemed to notice or care. Lucky that because, for the first (and potentially last) time in my life, there was a line for the stalls.

I got in line.

And then? Then I noticed there were no doors on the stalls.

I panicked.

I can't pee out in the open in the mens' room!!! I'm already breaking every social law, like, ever just being in here! Right?

There was a young man - likely around my age - with the loveliest waxed eyebrows just behind me. I turned and commented to him that I was a little distressed by the lack of doors. "How am I supposed to pee without a door?!" I asked him.

And he said...

"Oh! Honey! I'll get your back! We queens have GOT to stick together! Right?"





TangledLou said...

I love this story so much I want to take it line dancing! And holy cow, your nephew is beautiful.

Teresa said...

11 years ago or so, I went to Trax and Charlie's and I loved them both. Prior to that, I had an experience like you did at a club downtown....I think it was called The Vault. I didn't figure out what kind of club it was until I left. That was truly a blonde moment. DUH!

Masked Mom said...

Blending in with the natives--a true talent. ;)

alienbody said...

Ah, the memories of the club that had one stall in the woman's room, with a glass door...that wasn't frosted...and NO door on the entrance. You just stand in the doorway, look past the sinks and there in all my glory...I hover pee (because my ass was not going to grace that seat with its presence). I wish I had those thigh muscles again. *snap*snap*snap*

alienbody said...

Oh...and...your nephew is gorgeous!

cdnkaro said...

I'm more than a little jealous of your nephew's ability to do his! You just made me all nostalgic for my young country-western bar-hopping days!

Lucy said...

Man, I wish I could do my makeup even close to your nephew, love his picture and I was dying to know if the guys bathroom was cleaner, I guess so if you went potty but then again I probably focused on the wrong thing LOL

Just Jane said...

I'm seriously jealous of his mad makeup skills!

And thank you all for confirming how beautiful he is :).

PS The men's room was in WAY better shape.

Anonymous said...

*updating the Bucket List* Now I want to go to Denver.

Oh, and I'm a little sad that in almost 50 years, I've never once looked as gorgeous and glamorous as your nephew.