Jesus what a night. Gavin was a hoot! Can he put the liquor down or what? Drank Sister Roma under the fucking table. I think the bartender even started to splash a little Hangar One in my organic green tea and açai berry mocktail halfway through the evening. We were all at the Zeitgeist (who knew they had such a high end liquor and mixer stock?) to shake our tailfeathers with the new Imperial Court, and honor San Francisco’s new Empress, Cher a Little. I was a little pissed due to Gavin and Sister Roma’s always crowded schedules we had to miss the big coronation gala on the weekend. So it’s Monday night at the biker bar instead. At the after-after-after party. Gavin kept trying to paw the new Empress’ admittedly impressive fake tits. Whether he was that drunk or just trying to get into the spirit I couldn’t tell you. The gossip guy from Gloss was there too and he was trying to kick up a shit storm; maybe it’s been a slow week for local celebrity hi-jinks. As if that was ever a problem. I think he bought the round of “Patrón Silver” shooters. Well when it was time to wrap the mofo party up, which was on the early side cause it was a school night, Gavin went up to Empress Cher and told her she had to come with us and have some more drinks back at his place. I was like Gavin, dude, it’s a night, let’s go. You know I’m new at this hangin’ with the celebs stuff so I didn’t press it with him. He kept after the Empress. Lucky for me, as soon as she got a chance between his slurred entreaties she turned and went to join her own entourage, who were already outside waiting . That left me and my entourage, blogger du jour that I am, which tonight was Sister Roma and Gavin. Heklina had promised me she would attend but flaked, probably on some Trannyshack publicity errand. Anyway right after
the Empress’ exit is when Gavin spotted (and how he did this with all the liquor in him I don’t know) her red shoes – all glitter sparkling man-size pumps – that were left behind under a pool table. She must have taken them off at some point. I have a lot of empathy for drag queens; what they do for charity! Those outfits are not for comfort. Perhaps, like my peeps, she had a few too many cocktails, because she didn’t come right back for the shoes, and the sidewalk outside isn’t exactly sparkly clean. Anyway Gavin was all of a sudden on these red glitter shoes like they were fucking Cinderella’s. Sister Roma and I finally got him to the door, and he insists he is taking the shoes – he’s sure he can get the Empress’ number if he’s got her shoes. Like she hasn’t got a Carrie Bradshaw closet full of them, right! We’re like dude, you do know she’s a man, right? He giggles, and I drag both of them out and get them in my ‘cedes AMG roadster, and head north to drop Gavin off. He’s got early meetings tomorrow. Sister Roma stays in the car in the backseat. I just think she’s too tired to get up front. Both of us live in the ‘hood, and when I get back and parked she gets out, and I see she’s now got the red glitter shoes, and she’s tied them together with a lace from one of her own Keds. What the fuck now? She gets out and as if we’re in high school flings them up at an overhanging wire. I’m like, Sister Roma! Gavin’s gonna want those shoes to give back to the Empress. And she’s all in my face saying he’s got enough problems and this is for his sake. And she finally has the Empress’ red glitter shoes looped over the wire at 19th and Noe Street, and dances around and yells. Not a single person came out to ask what the fuck was going on either. What’s with a neighborhood where a bearded nun in whiteface flinging shoes at midnight is normal?
Note to Empress: It wasn’t me! Really.
Further adventures …