Lots of love — and a little hate — at drag brunch
Hola er’body. I hope you are all having the most fabulous day ever. I woke up today feeling good and ready to kick the day’s ass (but that could be the coffee talking).
A few weeks ago I performed at a drag brunch. I don’t do many brunches — even though I always end up having fun — because it just makes for an extremely long day for me. Plus, daytime drag is the devil. At least in the clubs or at night I can find a dark corner to hide in when I’m feeling ugly. But daytime drag? There is nowhere to hide. That damn sun shows off everything, warts and all. Fuck dat sun.
Getting in drag that early, especially after doing drag the night before, can really fuck up your face. I shaved on Friday and Saturday evening, then woke up at 9 a.m. on Sunday morning and shaved again. It makes your face feel like that box grater scene in Evil Dead Rises. (Great movie, by the way.)
While at this particular drag brunch, I got a taste of what the world is like sometimes outside of our safe little community bubble. And I did not care for it one bit.
The restaurant where we were performing is located inside of a hotel, and they were gracious enough to give us a room in the hotel to use as a dressing room. It was perfect. It was spacious enough that all four performers had plenty of room for their drag and a small entourage.
The only downside to having a room on the third or fourth floor was that we had to take an elevator and walk through the hotel to get to the venue. That’s not usually a big deal, but this time the hotel was packed.
Apparently, the hotel was hosting about 400 or so young cheerleaders and another couple of hundred tweens who were in town for the Taylor Swift concert. And the cheerleaders were out in full force, practicing routines out in the courtyard, running around at full speed — you know, being cheerleaders.
Then a few big ol’ wig wearers walk through the lobby. Baby, when I tell you the whole room went silent! All you could hear was the tippy-tap of my heels and, of course, my deepest voice asking people “What’s up?” as I walked by.
And these adorable little cheerleaders, most of them being about 11 or 12, got so excited to see us. Some were waving; some asked if they could take a picture with us. If they asked for a pic, I would always say, “Only if it’s okay with your mom,” and the moms were usually standing close by. I posed for about 20 photos, and the whole time the girls were saying things like, “OMG! We love Drag Race!” and “OMG! I love your makeup!” and “OMG! Do you know Allyssa Edwards?”
I honestly felt like a huge movie star or somethin’.
Then I went inside the restaurant, which was partitioned off so the general public couldn’t see inside, and I do my first of two sets. The crowd was amazing — big tables of gays, bigger tables of straight women and lots of couples. They all tipped really well and were so engaging. There is no better feeling than entertaining a receptive audience. They really made me feel special.
Then I ran back to the room to change into my next costume.
As I stepped off the elevator after changing, I could tell immediately that something was different. The lobby was quiet except for one angry man voice. I turned the corner and saw this grown man, maybe 45 and about 6 feet tall, yelling at this small woman. He was up in her face, demanding to know, “Who booked this bullshit knowing there would be children here” I want to talk to a manager! I have a small penis and am insecure about my sexuality!
Okay, so he didn’t say actually that last one, but we were all thinking it.
That lady might have been tiny, but she stood her ground and talked to him like he was a toddler: “I am the manager. We are sorry this has upset you. Could you lower your voice?”
He eventually threw his hands in the air and walked away saying he would NEVER come back to this hotel. He was big mad.
It turned out that Big Mad wasn’t even a parent of any of the kids there. He was there for a business conference and just needed something to be mad about. The sad thing about it was the fact that every other single person I came in contact with that day was spreading nothin’ but love, but that asshole affected everyone in that lobby with his dickishness.
I apologized to the manager lady, saying, “I’m so sorry you had to deal with that.” But she just shrugged it off and said, “It’s all part of the job.” I told her that unfortunately it is now part of our job, too.
The amount of anti-drag crap going around is getting ridiculous. I hate that they call us groomers. I do not care if your kid’s hair is awful; I am not trying to groom your child. Let ’em look ugly; I don’t care.
So I went on back into the venue for my second set and walked back into our cozy bubble of love. I took a pic with a couple’s tiny baby — so adorable. One woman showed me a pic on her phone of me with her son at one of the drag queen story time events I did at the library about five years ago. She hugged me and thanked me and said that her son still asks about me.
Well, that made me emotional.
Going from one extreme to another was very eye-opening — from those kids smiling and waving, to a micropeened jerk yelling about how disgusting drag queens are then back to a room full of love and light. My emotions were all over the place.
Hate really is a learned behavior, but, thank God, love still flourishes.
Remember to always love more, bitch less and be fabulous! XOXO, Cassie Nova