The movie reel manager has just interrupted the black and white movie in the theater, "Eva Peron, spiritual leader of the nation, entered her mortality, this evening." In the words of raisin faced Rachel Zoe: she just died.
When I finally accepted my homosexuality, I didn't just come out of the closet. I "gagged" my straight self and left him to suffocate and die in the closet with my ex girlfriends while I barged out of the building screaming Hallelujah!
On Saturday, 18th March 1995, I sucked my first dick in my Myles Standish dorm room. While I was showering to try and sober up, a buddy of mine, Darryl, came in to take a piss in the toilet. Darryl was the quintessential crew boy: tall, dark, handsome, with a six pack... I don't even want to reminisce on the beautiful size of his penis... Before I knew it, his dick somehow ended up in my mouth while I jacked off in the tub. We never spoke about it after, but Pandora's box had been opened and I was yearning for more. I laugh when I review my journal entry from that night as I wasn't fully able to talk about it with myself! I simply wrote:
The first Step. Got drunk and went into the shower. Had first Dimitri experience.
(Dimitri was the first gay guy I was ever introduced to by one of my ex-girlfriends.)
Growing up, homosexuality was never an option for me. My pop always said that being gay was something foreign. He told me gays were dirty and dangerous people.
The state of Argentina is now lamenting with a waltz at the news they've just heard.
After my incident with Darryl, I started to hang out more with a flaming Resident Associate at Myles Standish Hall, Andre, who was a good friend of my neighbour's, Jo. Andre was a very nice guy; flaming, but nice. He was very intelligent and the typical gay: long blond hair, angelic blue eyes, and pristine manicured Chanel Vamp nails! I had never had a friend that was openly gay. He introduced me to more "out-of-the-closet" gays and I found them all to be sane individuals and unlike any of the gay people my pop had described.
I was later introduced to Campus Thursdays over in Cambridge, MA where a lot of gay college kids liked to hang, and Avalon Sundays, the best gay night in Boston -- oh the good old days when Boston really had an amazing gay nightlife! I was a kid in a candy store googling at hot guys making out with other guys with their shirts off. Go-go boys were dancing on stages, and I saw the first Drag Queen in my life! Mizery! She was a fierce looking queen that could jump three feet in the air with her six inch heels and land perfectly in a split!
It was one night at campus, as we were leaving, that my friends were handed a flyer for a Drag Queen Pageant at Avalon hosted by Mizery. My friends squeeled with excitement.
"Oh my God, Ch'ien, you must enter this!" said Andy.
"Ch'ien, I bet we could make you a hot rockin' queen," added Jo, "You already don't even have a hair on your body!" An Asian bi-product that came in handy if you wanted to do drag, I guess.
The next couple weeks Joanna gathered a makeover team that would prep me for the Miss Irish Springs Drag Queen Pageant. Jen was the resident eyebrow tweezer and she couldn't wait to start plucking mine; Susanna had all the Mac makeup any drag queen would die for; Lindsey, my goth friend, had been stashing a floor length, green mermaid gown deep in her closet that she knew would be perfect for Miss Irish Springs; and Brandy and Laura were thrilled to play Barbie accessories on a full sized doll!
The pageant night finally arrived and my crew were in my dorm room getting me ready. Madonna's black and white Versace ads were plastered all over my walls to serve as my inspiration. Afterall, Madonna was the absolute and ultimate drag queen! At the time I had shoulder length hair and Brandy created a very bouncy bob with about a whole can of aqua net. It took about two hours to get my hair, makeup, and nails done while we sipped vodka tonics throughout the re-invention. Madonna would have been proud.My friends asked me what my name was for the night. I responded with Devon Dionysia: Dimitri Devon was my first guy crush and I was studying Greek and Roman mythology at the time and somehow grew fond of the God of Wine, Dionysis. My friends looked at me puzzled.
Once we arrived at Avalon we all waited anxiously in line. I had about 30 residents from Myles Standish waiting in line with me. I finally got to the front of the line and handed my fake ID to the bouncer."Are we sure this is real?" questioned the bouncer.
"I'm in Drag, baby. Of course it's real," my alter ego was already taking over. "I'm entering the drag pageant," I continued.
He stamped my hand and let me in without any cover and I quickly enrolled myself into the competition. I was up against a lot of local talent but I wasn't worried because I had my posse with me. 37 in total; the 30 that came with me from the dorm and the other seven vodka tonics that were swirling in my system.
Midnight rolled around the corner and all the pageant contestants were rallied to the stage so the show could start. Mizery had just finished a dazzling performance and was still catching her breath as she ushered us up onto the stage. Stephanie White was the first to get up and she needed no introduction. Lakia Mondale and Diamond Dunhill followed. I finally got up to the stage and Mizery pulled me aside.
"Honey, what's your name?" Mizery whispered.
"It's me Ch'ien," I replied, "we met at Campus a few weeks ago. I'm Devon Dionysia tonight."
"Guurl, you look goooood," approved Mizery. And then to the crowd she announced, "And here we have Devon!" She turned back to me and hushed, "Baby, trust me and forget that 'Di dicked Diana whatever bullshit." She was obviously referring to my Dionysian reference... I appreciated such a seasoned Drag Queen's advice.
My posse and the rest of Avalon cheered. I was radiating attitude under the spotlights. I could see the other queens asking each other "Who the fuck is that?" I was the unknown underdog trying to make a name.
Each Queen was asked a question before performing a lip synched number. The seasoned Queens had been doing this for years and gave such witty answers and star quality performances I was starting to sweat under my false titties. It was finally my turn and Mizery asked me my question.
"Devon, honey, what would you do with an Irish man and his 'sack of potatoes?'" asked Mizery while looking out to the crowd?
I looked into the sea of men. I couldn't even see my posse with the spotlights in my face. I couldn't think of anything to say and started to think: What in gay hell did I get myself into? I raised my hand to stall, like I was giving the crowd my hand as if they weren't worth my time.
"That's right, baby!" Mizery yelled, "Five times as long as he's bigger than five inches!"
The crowd started roaring with laughter and I realised she saved my life. I hugged and kissed her and whispered sweet thank yous in her ear. The lights flickered and my drag number blared out on the speakers: Love Fool by the Cardigans. I lip synched for my life and knew I couldn't fuck this up (Amen to RuPaul!).
As a finale, all the contestants were summoned back on the stage to be judged by the audience's applause. As Mizery placed her hand with three inch nails over each queen, the audience screeched and clapped for their favourite. When Mizery's hand eventually haloed my bob, the crowd went wild. It was a new era as an unknown drag queen won the pageant.
"And we have a winner! Devon!" Mizery exclaimed.
"Devon! Devon! Devon!" The crowd at Avalon was screaming my name like they were calling the new President of Argentina, "Peron!"
I won my first and only drag pageant! I was crowned with a tiara and handed a wand. I collected my prize money and the club manager took my information and told me I was welcome back to the club every Sunday to perform and bring friends to the VIP section. I sashayed with my crew back to the Myles Standish dorm for a celebratory drink and cigarette in the smoking lounge.
I was high and flying adored.
I was quickly asked to enter Miss Gay Boston that would be held at Jacque's Cabaret bar in Bay Village. I pounced at the invitation. Little did I know what was going to be in store for me. The emcee that night was Miss Stephanie White, resident favourite at Jacque's, and one of the other contestants was Miss Lakia Mondale, Mizery's new protege, both of whom I beat at Miss Irish Springs.
There were four contestants in all that evening and we were to get ready in the cold, flouresent lit basement of the club. As I was getting ready, Lakia walked up to me with her fake implants bobbing with each sashay.
"Uh-uh, honey," she spat at me with her eyes, gave me the hand and turned around and swayed back to her station. Mizery started duct taping Lakia's breasts in place as well as her cock. I couldn't believe the cattiness; I suppose I was still very naive to the whole drag underground. Luckily I managed to learn how to get my makeup done in a speedy half an hour and rushed back upstairs to seek comfort with my friends.
"Devon, don't worry about Lakia. Good luck," Mizery managed to catch my hand before I escaped that dungeon of a basement. I smiled back at her.
The evening was a payback for Miss Irish Springs. My lip synched talent number was cut half way by the DJ under the instruction from Miss Stephanie White, I learned later. By the time they were announcing the new winners I came in fourth place and wanted to shrink and die. Everyone got a bouquet of flowers, but me. There were only four contestants! Could they not have spared another $5 for a shitty bouquet? I think i would have settle for weeds! I was like Miss Chi Chi Rodriguez from To Wong Foo in the opening drag pageant of that movie who was sure she would win but didn't even end up placing! My saving grace was something the overweight queen that came in third place said to me."Baby, don't be discouraged. We can be mean but we're still family. It took me years to get to where I am now," she whispered.
The life of a drag queen is both terrific and trying. I learned how seriously some queens take their drag. They lived it 24-7. I was just a club kid having a good time and dressing up for fun every now and then. I performed in New York City and then I had a great opportunity to fly to Oxford, England to perform at a friend's birthday, but was almost beaten to a pulp by the Oxford rowing team when they heard there was a queer drag queen on their campus.
I remember pimps trying to "own" me in the seedy playground district in Chinatown before it got cleaned up. I got three to five hundred dollars in tips sometimes in one night after only lip synching five songs. I also got some unbelievably hot fans; the only problem was they were in love with the illusion. I wasn't. I wasn't interested in a guy that was interested in chicks with dicks. I loved my own dick and loved to fuck and get fucked. I didn't want to be a conversation piece: You know, my girlfriend used to be a boyfriend...It was hard to give up drag. I had my farewell tour back in 2003. Friends came from out of state to catch my show in the middle of a snow storm. I couldn't have asked for a better reception. That night I was rolling in cash from old friends, old fans, and old queens. When Jacque's closed for the night I invited everyone over to Dedo (the old Luxor) and treated them back to drinks.
Drag is extremely liberating for a man and I encourage everyone to try it once, straight or gay. It's addictive like a drug. I promise you when you get the drag bug you'll want to do it again. Diamond Dunhill once described it like Herpes: the itch will always come back when you're ready to quit it.Like Cher and Barbra, I think we were all ready to quit. Whatever it is that makes them come back to prolong their farewell tour, I think I caught that same bug. It's like some kind of rerun you never know when to expect on TV. Devon still comes out every now and then as a new incarnation on special occasions. Taking inspiration from the re-invention queen, Madonna, Devon became Pacifica Rimmer, who eventually became LaNaye 3000.
"Oh, what I'd give for a hundred years... but the physical interferes... everyday more, oh my creator..." Madonna sings in her closing waltz with Che, played by Antonio Banderas. If I were really a woman I would love performing on a stage for years under spotlights with adoring fans! But reality always sinks in and I can only be grateful for the self discovery I found when I dressed in drag. I was dragged to self discovery while, at the same time, I discovered the old cliche that drag is a drag.
No comments:
Post a Comment