Hairspray and Trannies and Gays, Oh My!

AKA - How I Spent Last Saturday Night.

The following post is proof that I do not need drugs, alcohol, sugar, or caffeine in order to go out in public, act like an idiot, and have lots of fun. This post is also VERY long, and VERY photo heavy, so consider yourself warned!

This is my friend Brittney.

I did her makeup. I luuuurrrrrrvvveee doing her makeup.

I love Brittney. Brittney opens up a lot of doors for me that I wouldn't really have access to otherwise. Namely, I have an excuse to hang out with drag queens and in gay bars now. Not that Brittney is gay. Not yet, technically. That doesn't really matter. What does is that I get to go to gay bars now. WHEE!!!

Of course, there are other reasons I love her, but those aren't what this post is about.

So, Brittney and my other friend A (who B is dating) invited me to go out last Saturday to the tranny bar. (Yes, that's what they call it) I was all over that. I decided that the theme for the evening would be "Hot Tranny Mess" (as we affectionately have dubbed Miss B) so that meant BIG HAIR.

This is courtesy of my new teasing comb, and a huge ass pink and white can of Aqua Net that I picked up at Walgreens on my way over to B's place since my little spritzer bottle of Dove hairspray wasn't cutting it.

Of course, when I got there, no one was ready, so I played with B's new camera and took "Myspace" photos of myself in the bathroom mirror. I also swapped my plain, black top for this one I found in A's bag because it went with my hair better. The sunglasses were also scavenged out of B's stuff. Awesome.

It was noted that I needed a beer and a cigarette to complete my look. The cigarettes were all the way downstairs, which I decided was way too far, but I did find a beer on the bathroom counter. Score! Here, I'm posing in the classiest manner possible, on the closet floor:

A few more self portraits:

Then A was done with her hair and makeup so we mugged for some pictures together:

I'm still in the closet - HA HA HA HA HA!!!

FINALLY, B was ready. We have to be patient, as she's still getting the hang of this "getting ready to go out" business. A and I have been doing it for a lot longer, you know?

Um... she's a little tall. Or I'm a little short. Or both, whatevs.

So we get to the bar, watch a terrible drag show (Seriously ladies, slow songs? Really?) and then go mingle. They had poles on platforms in there, and these two guys were doing an improv dance/comedy routine. Seriously, we were cracking up! When the one guy took off his shirt, I went over to give that boy a dollar. He deserved it! As a reward for my generosity, he let me take a photo with him:

Well, A wasn't about to be left out of that action, so she gave him a dollar and got a photo of her very own.

We hung out to chat with our new friend Waylon the Pole Dancecr and his "brother" (that's what they claimed) whose name I forgot. Meanwhile, poor B is stuck in the corner talking to this random guy. We decided to leave her be, because hey, part of being a girl is learning how to fend off creepers in a bar, am I right ladies???

When she finally came over and joined us, we seriously peer pressured her to try to pole dance. Her "I'm SHY!!!! Don't look at MEEEEE" mode kicked into overdrive, but in the end, guess who won?

I am nothing if not persistent. Of course, then some big drag queen booted us off the platform saying if we weren't gonna spread our legs then it wasn't worth us being up there. CLASSY.

After that, our new friends said they were heading over to another gay bar and invited us to follow along. I'd never been to that one, so we all decided to head on over. We realized that between us we only had seven dollars in cash, but B assured us that they NEVER charged a cover, unless it was a holiday, so we were cool.

As we started to drive out of the parking lot, we happened upon our new friends walking over to their car. Immediately they both hiked up their pant legs, so we pulled up, rolled down the windows, and began to hoot and holler at them like the grown ups we are. We were all like, HEY BABY, WANT A RIDE??? and they were like, OKAY! and then they seriously got in the car.

I really didn't expect that, but okay.

A took this pic of them in the backseat over her head without turning around or looking at the viewfinder or anything. Them's SKILLZ, y'all.

When we got to the next bar, they went in first, and then we followed. Guess what? There was a three dollar cover! And there were three of us! And we only had seven dollars! B, who was putting her purse in the car (it was bigger than the size limit) was cursed by me and A rather loudly, which attracted the attention of Waylon and his brother. They came over and asked what was wrong. We informed them that B told us that there was no cover so we hadn't stopped to get more cash and now we didn't have enough to get in. I then wailed, "We gave you our dollar bills!!!" which the bouncer thought was incredibly funny.

Waylon and co. paid our way in. To celebrate, they all had shots. Since I was driving, I was Waylon's coaster. Perhaps trying to look at the drink as I photographed it was not the kindest choice for my chin.

I really did not expect that to stay in there as well as it did.

That shot glass sat there while they passed around all the shots and paid the bartender. It was COLD. I was then informed that he was going to drink said shot without using his hands. I was picturing me with cold, sticky, pink liquor down the front of my shirt, but I have to tell you, that man did not spill one drop on me. Them's mad skillz too, yo. To celebrate, we took more stupid photos of ourselves:

Then there was this weird guy who came over and kept posing in front of us. He had no eyebrows, and all we could gather was that he wanted us to take photos of him too, which we did not. Finally he walked away, and as he did so, we noticed that his shorts were sort of sliding down over his bum a bit. Normally, not a big deal, but homeboy was wearing a FREAKING JOCK STRAP!!! That's right folks, we got a nice view of his BA. A tried to snap a photo, but he pulled up his pants in the nick of time.

I went over to see if he'd let us take a picture of him (I was going to pose behind him brandishing a quarter) but he B's shyness attacks were apparently contagious. He asked me where I was from, and I told him. He says to me, "No. WHERE are you FROM???" I'm like, uh, Phoenix? He shook his head at me and gave me this look like I was a stupid child and repeats the question. I repeated my answer - I'm from HERE!!! He let out an exasperated sigh, shook his head, and asked again "Where ARE you FROM???" I was totally confused at this point, because I'm thinking there is some sort of joke that I'm just not getting, and I repeated that I was from Phoenix. He reached up with both hands, fluffed my hair and told me, "Oh no honey, THIS? THIS is NOT from Phoenix!!!" LOL!

Either way, I didn't get the picture with my quarter. So, we took pics of each other instead.

B, Waylon, and the brother all went out to smoke, leaving A and I free to meet this guy:

Omar had the tightest little body you've ever seen with a tooshie to match. He even dropped trou three times to prove it. Yes, I have photos. No, I'm not going to post them. He also was drunk to the point where he started crying about how he was getting older and how the kids in high school picked on him, and then he referred to his buddy as a "Nosferatu-looking son of a bitch" which was interesting seeing as how minutes before he was telling us about how important it was to have a good heart and all. After a long goodbye, where we were hugged repeatedly and he told both A and I that we were his sisters (as in "you and me - we're sisters now") it was time to leave the bar and GO HOME.

Which I did, after dropping off B and A. And that was my Saturday night. I'd like to thank my husband for being cool with his wife going out and acting like an idiot with her friends while he stayed home with the baby. :)