Throughout most of my pubescent teenage years I was socially awkward, and that was the plain and simple truth. If I ever had been given a yearbook superlative it would probably read: Most Likely To Run Away and Join the Circus. Step right up folks and behold the reclusive freak homo boy from Lard (that's Spanish for my hometown, Manteca)! Seriously, whoever coined the phrase "high school was the best years of my life" was probably Most Popular or Best Looking. They were also "most likely" the ones who stayed in my home town, became unhappily married, and spawned three kids. I knew I was special and didn't fit into the typical "normal" mold like most other high school kids. I wanted to travel, meet new people (people that weren't from my home town) and see new places. Most importantly, I wanted to shed my skin, and I couldn't indulge in my uniqueness if I continued to live in my home town.
Twelve years later (took me long enough) I did just that: I moved to San Francisco and joined the circus, or something close to it. In a city where anything goes and endless possibilities, you could be anyone (or anything), and you didn't have to worry about the most likely popular crowd looking down on you. And the best part is I could either be a voyeuristic member of the audience or a willing participant that would entertain and amaze. That's what so great about running away to join the circus: there's never a dull moment. I realized that San Francisco was the quintessential "stage" where everyone was constantly rehearsing their lines to perform their next act.
And on a mild mid-October evening, I was assuming the role as an audience member because I was on my way to see a drag performance. I had only lived in the city for a little over two months, and I decided it was about time to embark into unknown regions (also known as the Tenderloin). Put aside the fact that the Tenderloin was rampant with crime, prostitution, drug dealers and plain old fashioned crazies, it was still a great place to go out and have a gay old time. So I jumped on the train and met my roommates and a friend of theirs at Deco Lounge; they had already found a perfect table right in front. The evening was already starting off on a good note with good times, good friends and very strong drinks!
As the night got closer to the performance, I realized that I was quickly running out of money but unfortunately the ATM machine inside the bar was out of service. The bartender was nice enough to give me directions to an ATM that was close by. All I had to do was go up one block and take a left turn on Golden Gate Avenue. Sounds easy enough, right? I wish I could say it was, but I was about to learn that sometimes even the easiest of things can be a challenge (especially when you're in the Tenderloin). And as I stepped out into the night and started walking across the street, I realized that the circus was most definitely in town tonight, and I had a front row seat. Come one, come all and see the magnificent and amazing performers of the Tenderloin! In just a matter of minutes, I came across a drug deal, a prostitute offering her (or his) services, and a man ranting and raving lewd comments to himself. Ah, the joys of living in the city! After I found the ATM, I made my way back to the bar and managed not to make eye contact with anyone.
I sat down at our table and realized that the lounge was filling up fast, and people were getting rowdy and anxious. It was only a few minutes before the show when I felt a small tap on my shoulder. I looked up and saw a drag queen all decked out in short baby doll dress with long stockings, and her hair was braided in pigtails. It was Baby Jane Hudson meets Pippi Longstocking, and I was completely mesmerized! She handed a Polaroid to one of my roommates, and the drag queen knelt down next to me while my roommate took a picture of us. I was starstruck and speechless all at the same time, and before I knew it she had vanished into the back of the bar. My face lit up and everyone at my table started speculating as to why she took my picture. I didn't realize it at the time, but the evening was going to be a most memorable one that I would never forget.
As we sat there and watched the show, we saw some amazing and not so amazing drag performances. My eyes were glued to the small stage, and there was no way anyone could tear me away. We saw a wonderful Janis Joplin 60's tie died performance, and a memorable interpretation of Beyonce's "Single Ladies". The show was getting off to a good start, and the crowd was enjoying every moment. The next performer (who's name eludes me for some reason) was less of a hit, but still looked good in her long, elegant evening dress that matched her equally long, wavy hair. In the back of my mind I kept thinking Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair! I could tell she was nervous, and I thought how daunting it must have been to be up there trying to give it your best. As she made her way to our table, one of my roommates tipped her, but on her way back, the drag queen got her hair caught in the big fan standing next to the DJ booth. The audience let out a small gasp as she struggled to break free from the fan, and finally one of my roommates untangled her hair. But the drag queen kept her head held high (and her hair away from our table) and walked back up to the stage to finish her number.
Finally, it was time for my mystery queen to reveal herself. Her name was Raya Light, and I was fascinated from the moment she stepped foot on the small stage. She was still wearing her baby doll dress, and I noticed that she had the picture that she took of me in her hand. I glanced over at the girls at my table and they all had equally suspicious looks. The song started off all lovey-dovey and gooey, and Raya would occasionally glance at my photo from time to time with adoration. After only a few minutes into the song, it started to turn sour (think Alanis Morisette and "You Outta Know"). Then out of nowhere she proceeded to pull a small dildo from her dress and threw my photo on the ground. Clearly, I broker her heart, and now she was done with me. She took that dildo, turned her back to the audience, pulled up her skirt and pulled down her underwear to reveal her ass (and might I add it was a nice one). The crowed was relishing every moment and they cheered her on by whistling and making sexual noises. When she turned back to face the audience, she took the dildo and placed it every so carefully up her ass. Mind you, no one really saw this happening because of her poofy, frilly dress. The audience just assumed that she was "enjoying herself" because it looked as if she was going through the motions of getting off.
And it didn't end there, my friends. Oh no, that was just a warm up, and the good stuff was just about to begin. After a minute or two of enjoying herself with the dildo, she pulled it out and it was covered with a mysterious brown coating! But it wasn't until she started sucking on the dildo that the audience let out several gasps of disgust and confusion. At this point, the audience didn't know whether to cheer or look away, but I realized I couldn't keep my eyes off the stage because I had never seen anything so trashy, so in your face, and so raunchy in all my life. Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore...
As the song was drawing to and end, my roommates convinced me that I should tip her, but I was petrified of going up there. I took a deep breath and made my way towards the stage. I had officially become part of the performance, I just didn't know it yet. And as I started to put a dollar in her chest, she grabbed me by my head and pushed my face into her crotch, and I could hear the audience cheering and laughing from behind me. When I came up for air I felt my face getting red, and I made my way back to my table, embarrassed.
When I sat down the table next to me blurted out: "You have some of that shit on your shoulder!" And there it was: the mysterious brown something right there on my shirt. I quickly ran into the bathroom and realized there was also a little in my hair, and as I began to wash it out I got a strong wiff of sugar and chocolate pudding. It wasn't until I started scrubbing my shirt that I realized the smell was coming from the brown goo on my shirt. It must have been chocolate frosting, but I wasn't about to do a taste test and find out. I was relieved, but I still wasn't sure how she managed to pull it off. I cleaned myself up as best as I could and made my way back to our table.
We didn't stay long after that because the night was drawing to and end, and it was getting late. But that unforgettable performance never left my mind. It was the night I saw my first authentic drag performance, and it was also the night I became an official fan of Miss Raya. As we hopped into the taxi and back to The Sunset, I realized that the circus wasn't over by any means. The shows were constantly being performed day and night, regardless of what neighborhood you were in. It was all around me, and I was part of it. And the best part is I didn't have to look that far because it was always right outside my door.
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