SURVIVING MAE WEST

January 1996

 January 1 It is officially the New Year, folks. We partied hard last night. Peter met us at the apartment for shots. He also supplied weed—a lovely drug, if I must say so. Then we staggered from one steamy bar to another , only slightly shaken into sobriety by the icy winds that clawed down the streets. We stopped at Jackie 60’s, where a crowd of handsome boys and drag queens wowed us, where the music kicked harder than at other clubs. Queens ran back and forth on this tiny stage. A fake sex-change operation (all mimed as the music pumped) was underway. Actors sawed an enormous dildo off this guy’s underwear. The guy lay on a surgical table and kept kissing his fake tits as he wailed in supposed pain. A nurse paraded the skewered penis while the doctor pushed his nose under his/her skirt. The crowd loved it. I loved it. Before we left, a queen dressed as the New Year, wearing a banner and carrying a torch, vamped down the catwalk. Next thing you know, Peter was standing in front of her with his tongue sticking out, eyes rolling, his head swinging side to side as the New Year pretended to give it to him from behind. I clapped, screamed, and jumped up and down—until I slipped and grabbed a hold of a dyke’s jacket, dragging her onto the sticky floor with me, both of us laughing. The rest of the evening, we wreaked havoc. Sue and I grinding, dancing together. Dumping the Actor Boy set her reckless mood. She made out with numerous boys, until her face was permanently flushed from smeared lipstick. This led to a handful of phone numbers , which we sorted on the table, trying to connect slips of paper with faces. ġģĚĤĔĚĝĝĒ
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ģĠĕĕ  Tension only rose when a middle-aged Suit approached me. I was drunk, so I just stared at him for a few minutes while he droned on, his hand sticking to my sweaty back. And finally (well, later Sue told me what I said), I shouted, Hey, hey! What are you thinking? Do you think a gorgeous, intelligent, young woman like me would be interested in an old fuck like you? I patted him on the chest, doubling over in laughter. He started walking away, but I called him back, Say, wait, no wait! Why would prime pussy want a withered dick? Come on, talk to me! Make me understand! Peter and Sue caught the management staring and dragged me away. All I remember is his hand on my back. But I’m proud I challenged him. And here’s a little ditty I just learned from Erin, who just got a book of dirty limericks for Christmas: There once was a woman from Kanass Whose tits were made out of brass. In stormy weather, she’d clack them together, And lightning shot out of her ass. January 2 It’s 4:30 a.m., and Sue traveled to Jersey again. My insomnia is incurable if she’s not in the next room, but I calm down once the sun is up, so I’m staying awake until sunrise. Turns out barking-dog man filed a complaint about me locking myself in the bathroom for the last fifteen minutes of our session. ĤĦģħĚħĚğĘ
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ĨĖĤĥ  Diane heaved herself out of the recliner and jabbed me with a finger. Cool it, she said. Remember who’s paying. Luckily, she lectured me while other girls hung around the basement . Janice says that she’s not truly angry if she deals with you in public. After me, Diane took it up a notch and screamed at Erin for not showing up to work last week, calling her a fat, lazy slut. Erin turned into molasses, morphed into a nonresponsive blob on the couch. Diane smacked her upside the head a few times, hair flying out, hard enough to hurt but light enough to brush off if you wanted. Erin apologized, monotone, under her breath and said that she’d work extra this week. Looked like she might kill Diane. Shit, Erin said afterward, rolling and then smoking her own cigarette , spitting out the loose tobacco (’cause she’s that cool). Ma is twice her size, and I used to take her out. Erin grabbed a throw pillow and bit down on a corner. She said, I’d grab hold...