2006-06-07
Waiter, there's a transvestite in my soup
At school, I am the "quiet girl," the one whose yearbook pages are full of meaningless phrases: stay sweet, U R 2 GOOD 2 B FORGOTTEN, Have a nice summer, or (my personal favorite)...I didn't get to know you this year but I had fun sitting behind you in Biology."
I am tired of being that girl.
Last weekend, I wore a disguise: a puffy afro wig, platform heels hot-glued with rhinestones, fishnet stockings, a funny-smelling corset from Miami Twice.
"What are you supposed to be?" asked my friend, Sean. He was wearing suit and oversized shades (which he called "moon-glasses)
"I'm Doctor Frank N. Furter," I told him.
"You can't be Frankie. You're the wrong gender," he said.
"Who cares?" I said.
"Oh, my god. You look like a whore from Biscayne Boulevard," said Sean. "And you're not leaving the house like that."
I hid under a Dracula cape leftover from Halloween (We didn't do much last year, thanks to the stupid hurricane). Sean, did my makeup.
He swiped a Q-tip from the dresser. "Sit down," he said. His soft strokes tickled my eyelids. "It feels like I'm putting on a lot but I'm not."
When he finished, my eyelashes looked like spiders. My mouth was a war wound.
"Let's blow this joint," he said.
Sean drove his dad's car. We arrived in one piece. A line snaked around the movie theatre: dozens of Transylvanians in nosebleed heels and glitter eyeshadow.
Sean had filled his messenger bag with all the essentials: rice for the wedding scene, a spray gun to simulate rain, a cow bell for...something else.
"Just copy what I do," he said.
Once we collapsed into our seats and the music started, I realized that we wouldn't be watching the movie.
He yanked me onto the stage, the bright lights swirling behind us. We danced the Time Warp as people stomped and hooted.
Driving home that night, Sean blasted the soundtrack in the car. He knew all the words. Soon I would learn all the dirty insults and one-liners.
"WHERE’S YOUR NECK? ...lost in time... WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE TV SHOW? ...and lost in space... STARRING JUNE LOCKHART! ...and meaning... WHO THE FUCK IS MEANING? DON’T FORGET TO TURN OFF THE GLOBE."
"I'm going back next week," I told him.
Sean grinned but didn't say anything. I rolled down the window and let the breeze ruffle my cape. I could've taken off and soared over the highway. I could've made myself invisible like a bat.
f-i-n at 11:28 a.m.