Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Twinkle, Twinkle, What the Hell?

I disappeared to the bar and talked up the cute transgender bartender, who for lack of a better name I will call Violet, because she looked like a violet. She was wearing a cute, short-cut puffy prom dress, with impeccable hair and makeup.

“I like your style,” she said to me.

“I like yours.” I ordered a drink, and one for her. She giggled, said no, and then said yes and poured us two shots.

From her I got most of the story. The promotional crew for the show had not managed to seal whatever deal needed to be sealed with the bar, and so the show at the bar had been canceled. Instead Moon Night was going to have a drag show at 11:30. We were invited to stay. I got a free shot, bought another, and went back to the table with a round of drinks and explained.

“So what do we do?”

I thought about it.

“I really don’t know.”

“I say let’s go. We can at least try it,” suggested the Editor.

Kiterunner was less convinced. I looked to the Irish, who looked like he was about to fall asleep on the bar. Two days of running nonstop for meetings and social events had caught up with him.

“Do you want to come, or do you want to bail here and go the hotel?”

He paused but I could see a clear plan of bailing and going to the room forming.

“Bail.”

“All right, well, I’m in for it. What the hell, it will be an adventure.”

“Oh, I remember that all right,” said the Irish. “Fuck it, I’m in.”

My eyes twinkled.

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