Thursday, December 30, 2004

B-I-N-G-O

Drag Queen Bingo is a weekly event at Chaos, and Kristin and Annie had been a couple times but the straight boys and I were DQB virgins, and what a first time it was. The full album of photos can be seen here.

As Kristin has mentioned, we were the most popular table in the joint by virtue of 1. being front and center and 2. having 2 handsome straight boys at our table. Nothing brings out the sass in a Queen more than the opportunity to work hur mojo on a hot hetero boy. The bingo is merely a medium, through which the gurlz talk shit to one another and the audience. For instance, if you claim "Bingo!" but don't have the goods, the audience, as one, instructs you to "SIT YOUR ASS DOWN." Girls who go up to claim Bingo are often asked to "Show us your tits" and if the bingo playing gets stale the MCettes mix-up the shenanigans, alternating between bingo, trivia games, and doses of straight and gay porn on the big screen. The hostesses also take turns working the crowd individually, which leads to priceless pictures like this. They aren't real, but they are still *spectacular*.

Ben (Annie's brother) and Robin (Kristin's brother) were both brought up individually (see piccies below) to help decide on what sort of Bingo would be played. That is, each round the game alternates--sometimes you're going for Bingo in the shape of an "X" on your board, or like a "picture frame" (all around the edges). Straight boys get tapped for an...um..."equipment check", thereby determining if the next Bingo will be slanting to the left, etc. I'm sure both the fellas will be happy to have you know that their games were "Straight up and down". Whatever that means.

Later, during a trivia round, after declaring that he would "ROCK at that game", Robin got called up again to pit his half-Asian wits against the multitudes. And kids? He sucked at it. Here is his score. And here is the MCette giving him a pity question just to get his numbers out of the basement. Of course I won't get into how *I* knew the answers to their hard-hitting questions such as "Who sang We Don't Need Another Hero?"

I didn't win any of the bling despite having my eye on a zippy little digital coffee maker. In fact, had I gotten bingo on some of the rounds (like the porn DVD, or the dildo) I would have kept my yapper closed. But the prizes aren't why you go to DQB. You go to shake plastic maracas and tambourines; to be hit on by a drunk lesbian; to be horrified by straight porn but unmoved by the gay kind; to be told by a Val Kilmer doppelganger (a la Ice Man) that you look like a "Stephanie" and have him slather lip gloss on you in the bathroom (where he's hiding from his boyfriend while he has a verboten cigarette) because heknowswhathe'sdoinghe'samake-upartistforChanel.

Good. Times.

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