And Yes, there was a Drag Queen

 I love that I've found a community, a posse a gang of people who actually appear to like me. And I like them, and going out with them, and I always have a great time with them, even if I think don't want to go out. 

So tonight, I was so no feeling it. At 6 pm all I wanted to do was sit at home with the cat and knit. 

The date has been in my diary for weeks. But along with knowing I have a nine-hour drive on Saturday with a cat in the back of the car, and that work is over for the year and the solstice and all that, taking myself to deepest, darkest Fitzroy to a drag bar wasn't high on my list of things to do tonight. Besides, it's not theday for it. It's too muggy...too warm... too near Christmas. And I looked at the menu before I went - my list of complaints went on. There was nothing on the menu that wasn't either deep friend or made of potato/pasta or out of a New York deli.

Nevertheless, we persisted.

But I put on some make up, made myself respectable and climbed on the tram at 6.30. 

And had a great time. 

It wasn't a big night - just about right. Nothing that some bourbon infused frozen Cherry Cokes and a lychee martini didn't fix. 

And yes, there was a Drag Queen. Skylar. I have no idea how they walked in those heels, let alone danced in those heels. One of our crew had a chat with them in the break. Allegedly they sell medical supplies in Elsternwick by day. Who knew? Evie's has drag queens on most nights. I'd be interested to go on New Year's Eve when somebody called Abril Latrine is playing. 

I'd managed to score a life home with one of the crew early in the night. She had to work tomorrow and had to be sensible. My day is huge and I didn't want to kick on.  We came up with a safe word. When one of us used it, we knew it was time to make a break for it. Her car was a few streets away. 

So, after a night of fun and laughs and many discussions about the incredible nature of Skylar the drag queen's arse, and other catching up activities, around 10 pm, I found my counterpart, looked her in the eye and said, "Crumpets."

"Crumpets?" she asked.

"Yes, crumpets."

"With lashings of butter?"

"Yes, and toasted, and with honey."

"Sounds good to me."

And after a lot of hugs and waves and a bad rendition of Mariah Carey's, "All I Want for Christmas", we walked out into the muggy Fitzroy night, both of us covered in other people's lipstick.

There was a drag queen and a mob of intelligent, fun, ripe for the picking middle-aged-women out on a school night. 

I am utterly grateful to have these amazing people in my life.

And I think I might have found a new local. 

Today's song: