What. A. Day.
So as I was flyering on Tuesday, on a street corner (classic), someone walked past me who I thought I recognised. We had some kind of facial interaction, with my face doing a sort of ‘is it?’ thing, and their face doing a ‘why is this drag queen staring at me and doing a sort of ‘is it?’ thing?’
It turned out it was Charlie Hides, from RuPaul’s Drag Race Season 9.
Could you shut up a second?
We chatted and he was really nice. He’d initially opened our conversation with some sort of cockney accent so I wasn’t really sure if I was having a stroke or something. I wasn’t. He went to see Myra Dubois who is, incidentally, on my list of things to see. I saw Charlie again in the Fringe Box Office yesterday (Wednesday), but I was out of drag and I didn’t want to seem CRAZY.
After my show (which went well, thanks for asking - I made someone cry), I went with my drag mother, Crudi Dench, to a club night called Rabbit Hole, hosted by Alice Rabbit, a queen with one of the most phenomenal voices I’ve ever heard. We did some lip-syncing, an impromptu Read You Wrote You (I played Detox, unconvincingly), and saw a queen called GROUNDSKEEPER FANNY (OH MY GOD) do a lip-sync number about Jasmine Masters. We died.
An okay picture of us before we died
At one point in the evening, an older guy, maybe about seventy, came up to me and asked me if he could buy me a glass of champagne. I said yes, although when we got to the bar and he asked me what I wanted, I panicked and didn’t want to sound like a dick so I said I’d have whatever he was having. It was vodka and cranberry which I’ve not actually had before and never fucking will again because it tasted like regret. The man said to me that I was the prettiest girl there, and I must definitely had a boyfriend.
I laughed in his face.
He told me he was a wine merchant and lived in Morocco, but unfortunately he was over three times my age and I wasn’t ready to be kidnapped and never see my family again. He gave me his card, so once I’d finished my drink I went around telling people that if I were to pass out, the number of the guy who did it was in my left breast.
I was in drag for fourteen hours on Tuesday. I had tape holding back my lower portions for FOURTEEN HOURS.
Why do I do these things?