Dicks, turtles and anti-vaxxers — and letting it go

Hey all y’all beautiful people. Today I find myself feeling some kind of way. The past few weeks, I have had a few instances at the shows that I need to deal with — mostly for my own personal mental health. And y’all know that me writing has somehow become my therapy. I have found that just writing stuff down and putting my thoughts in order helps me. Plus, some of the feedback I get from some of you has been really helpful.

Okay, so back to these “instances” at work …

A few weeks ago, at the Monday night Freakshow at JR.’s, I had a person come to the show and sit next to the stage with his silver haired “friend” who paid for everything. No judgement; I have two sugar daddies (my husband and myself).

Now if you come to JR.’s on a show night — Monday or Tuesday — there are four tables in the light near the front of the stage. People who sit there usually want to watch the show. Well, on this particular night, while someone else was performing, I was walking around talking to folks, being the good hostess that I am, and I asked this person — let’s call him Dick — and his silver haired partner if they were having fun. You know, keeping it casual. He answered, “No, now leave us alone,” and waved me away.

I clutch my pearls and step away with an “OhhhhKaaaaay!” in my best Leslie Jordan voice. I bring off the performer and step on stage and announce how I love seeing the backs of people’s heads, referencing to the way he has made sure everyone sees that he is not watching the show with vigor. He puts both hands in the air, flipping me the double bird.

No tea; I get that not everyone likes drag and even more hate me in particular.

I go on a small rant about how big JR.’s is and how there are so many areas of the bar that you could go sit if you don’t want to watch the show. There is a pool table area, the entire other side of the bar, there is even a busy intersection you can go play in. That is why I was so confused that they sat so close to the stage.

By the way, silver daddy is looking at me and lipping the words, “I am so sorry!” I just shake my head with a shrug that says, “Fuck it and fuck him.”

The good people of JR.’s are ready to kick the Dick out, but, other than being a jerk, he hadn’t done anything wrong. So I decide to just let it go — other than a few more comments about life being too short to be bothered by the back of someone’s head. (Insert doggie style sex joke here.)

The show continued without incident, other than the normal amount of shenanigans and debauchery.

An hour after the show, I made a Facebook post venting my feelings about the situation. I actually felt better about the night, but I also had just a tinge of regret. Was I being petty? Should I even give that Dick a second thought, let alone the fact that I am writing about it and keeping the conversation going? Why can’t I just let shit go?

Then, last week in the Rose Room, I am emceeing, doing my normal gig. I am wishing someone across the room a happy birthday when I notice the guy next to the stage has been repeating the same word to me, over and over: “Turtle!” I ignore it for a while and try to continue my conversation with the birthday girl, and he just keeps on going: “Turtle, Turtle, Turtle!”

The guy doing this is someone I have known for many years. We are not great friends, but we say hi and make small talk when we see each other. But he just keeps on with this “Turtle, Turtle” bullshit.

I stop what I am doing and turn to him and kind of explode at him: “Why the fuck do you keep saying turtle at me?” He says, “Because you have one.”

I lose my freaking mind and proceed to read him for filth:

“First of all, I have a tortoise, not a turtle, and why are you yelling it at me? Is it because you want everyone here to know you know one small fact about me that isn’t drag related? Are you trying to make it seem like we are better friends than we actually are? What is the purpose? To annoy, get attention, what?”

He laughs it off; I roll my eyes and continue the show.

But now I am annoyed — more at myself for the way I handled the situation than at him.

To the audience, I probably looked like a total jerk. I know a lot of people love it when a drag queen goes off on an individual, and it can be really funny if handled correctly. This wasn’t funny or handled correctly. I should have just told him to chill and move on.

Don’t get me started on the antivaxxer that called me dumb and said that is why I am only a drag queen. That night I handled my shit and put her in her place — next to the dumpster. Sometimes the best reads come from just letting them speak. I didn’t need to say a word, but I did. Somedays my inner Petty Patty just deserves to be heard.

Last night I had a guy call me … . You know what, fuck that. He doesn’t deserve another thought.

I guess my problem is not being able to just let stuff go. I dwell on stuff like I am in a cave. It stays on my mind when it actually deserves none of my brain space.

Lately, it seems there have been so many people go mean so quickly. They are brutal. I need to not take the bait, but somewhere between my feelings and my ego lives a monster that can be summoned too easily.

Getting older is crazy. A younger Cassie Nova wouldn’t give a shit if she ripped someone to shreds. I think then it was all ego and no feelings. Maybe the world has just gotten so mean that I don’t want to keep adding to the negativity. I don’t know, but I am going to try — I said try — to be more positive during shows and try to let shit go before it consumes me and makes me a full-on villain.

But please don’t mistake my positivity for weakness. I will still read a bitch if a bitch needs readin’.

If you have any pointers on letting stuff go, hit me up and remember to always love more, bitch less and be fabulous! XOXO, Cassie Nova