Monday, July 01, 2002

wanna disco? wanna see me disco? let me hear you depoliticize my rhyme


2 a.m., locking the bike, there appears to be a line at the door. No, it's just a handful deciding whether to pay the 5 bucks. Inside, 3 barbuddies at the bar; at the far end of the room, a pool table and several more people. Jukebox music's good - Iggy Pop or something like that. But still, rather quiet for a cover-charge bar. After grabbing a beer, one of my pals says "oh, there's a bunch of folks in that room back there." Past the pooltable, I do notice a bunch of folks, and push my way past them, past what looks like a dressing room, and into a jam-packed room as the Dueling Bankheads are introduced! As I push myself forward, this room as crowded, but not quite as sweaty as the Cock's backroom only 30 minutes ago, I see several pals perched up along the wall to get the best view of the show. Lots of big smiles, and nudging to other pals that I'm here, a wave of warmth envelopes me as the Ladies on stage begin their raunchy version of I Got You Babe (renamed I Got You Bitch). Totally hysterical, the crowd loves it, other fantastic acts follow (a drunken history "lesson" about the Stonewall Riots followed up by a wild Judy Garland song; Sweetie did 2 non-lipsynced tunes, plus lots of "you're fucking fabulous" shouts out to the crowd) a few hugs from my buddies as I finally get close enough, and after the shows are over, a few minutes into the DeeJay's mix this song blasts as the room goes mad, with everyone dancing wildly (even my fuzzy butt was shaking, perhaps undectable to the untrained eye, but for me it was dancing!). About an hour more of crowd-pleasing tunes, a very sultry vibe - with more shirtless women than men, I even amazed myself how much I loved it.

It had been a long day, Parade, street festival, a few bars, and I had some rather down moments (like the bike chain falling off as I attempted to make the fireworks on the West Side), mostly self-inflicted; but somehow, I kept getting out there until it seemed to click, at 3 in the morning, a roomful of queers and freaks, loud music, booze, and that one boy, who was clearly with someone else, who still afforded me a few friendly smiles as I enjoyed (and envied) his uninhibited dancing.