So there was a guy named Fred who worked in the kitchen at the crazy restaurant. He was queer as a football bat and we loved him to death. He was a great guy...wide open and friendly, smart, quick and hilarious. He was into drag, and one day after lunch he invited a friend and me to see him at a drag show that evening.
Immediately we knew it'd be a good time but we were hesitant...it was in a part of town where we knew we'd be the only white people for miles. We certainly weren't racist in any way and we weren't afraid to be around a bunch of black people, but racism was alive and well back then, and anything could happen.
We weren't worried about it but everybody else was telling us not to go and we'd get in trouble and everything, and that affected our resolve a bit. We decided that the best thing to do was to get loaded. That way we wouldn't give a shit going into a possibly volatile situation, and we'd ignore them telling us we shouldn't do it. We did have some adrenaline going, so we split a bottle of 100 proof Stoli.
We heard that in the Soviet Union they sniffed bread before they took a shot. It was supposed to kill some of the aroma and taste of cheap vodka. We had some decent stuff, but we did it anyway. We got a basket of our fresh-baked dinner rolls and sniffed away. They were probably our dinner too.
The show started at 7 I think, and it was around 6. We wanted to leave before the dinner crowd got there so we wouldn't scare them off. The management didn't mind us drinking ourselves silly and acting crazy, but not during a shift. We took off for the club in Hugo's brand new white BMW...already drunk as skunks. "Well, here goes nothing!"
We got to the club a little early and were hanging out in the parking lot. We were looking at each other and grinning, like "What are we doing here?" Fred and his buddy pulled up. Fred had his red dress on a hanger, along with all his makeup and accoutrements. He also had a large Boa Constrictor around his neck. "Nice snake" we both said. "That's my baby" said Fred. "Glad you could make it boys!" "We wouldn't miss it for the world, Fred." "Wanna smoke a J?" Fred asked. We were blasted anyway, so why not? "Sure."
We'd been standing outside of the car, probably to get some air to our brains and see if we could still stand up. We got back into the car to smoke. Since Fred was the star and had all his stuff I climbed into the back seat. Fred's buddy got in back with me. He looked us over and said to Fred: "Oooo, I like your friends, girl!" I'm guessing he thought we were gay. That was funny.
As far as stuff besides alcohol goes, I should mention that Hugo had just had oral surgery and had some Talwin, an ultra-potent painkiller. On top of half a bottle of vodka and a joint and a pill, we were feeling no pain to say the least.
We chatted for a while until it was time for Fred to get ready. We went in and found a table right by the stage. It was a nice club and it was packed. We ordered gin and tonics for some reason. When I told the story on fb I told a little fib...I said we had 13 gin and tonics total, but we actually had that many each, plus several tall boys when they ran out of gin. I don't know how we weren't falling down but we weren't. We had a buzz from adrenaline, substances and the general atmosphere.
Before his turn, Fred came out to show us his outfit, and our jaws dropped. He knew what he was doing, and he really made for a very attractive "female." I gave him a big hug and loudly proclaimed, "Fred...you're BEAUTIFUL!" I could tell he appreciated it. We sat back down to watch the other girls, but then, almost automatically and practically in blackout condition, my dumb ass decided that it would be a good idea to ask every woman in the club to dance with me.
Usually I don't dance, and if I do dance I know I'm wasted. I asked nearly every gal in the club, going table to table. We were the only white folks in the place, so I suppose we were already getting a little attention, even though since we knew Fred we were okay. One by one the ladies shook their heads, and their dates either thought it was hilarious or gave me a dirty look. Finally one girl agreed to dance with me and I was thrilled. I barely remember moving around with her, somewhat to the beat, but that's about it. Bless her heart. I bought her a drink for her trouble.
I don't remember much else until we were trying to get back to Crackerville, and we got lost. GPS wasn't even a twinkle in anyone's eye back then. We drove around in a haze. I just remember not knowing where the hell we were, and deciding to stop at another club, hope for the best and ask directions. That place was packed to the gills. We walked in, looked around and made our way to the bar. A human sea parted in front of us as we approached the bar. Everyone was totally cool, if a bit bemused.
"May I help you?" the bartender asked. "Uh, can you tell us how to get back to Birmingham?" I managed to ask. He gave us directions and by the grace of God we made it back to the restaurant. A few people were still there, and they were thrilled to see us return safely, if plastered. They made us a fresh pot of coffee. I ended up crashing at Hugo's and his girlfriend Lanier's place.
I should back up here because I left out a couple of things. Before we left the restaurant they made us promise over and over that we'd call at some point to let them know we were okay. We called from a payphone and Eric the bartender answered. "Mauby's" he said. "Hey faggot!" I said. Back then you could still say "faggot." We were three sheets by then and we didn't care where we were. We were having a big time...cutting up and laughing like lunatics. We were shitfaced, and Eric knew it. He put it on speaker so everybody else could enjoy the merriment.
"Are you bozos okay?" he asked. "Yeah man, never better. Fred was awesome." "You numbnuts should call yourselves a cab." Hugo and I looked at each other and both said, "You're a cab." We lost it laughing, and we could hear them on the other end cracking up too. "No, I'm serious" Eric pleaded. "Y'all probably can't walk, much less drive" he said. "Nah, we're fine" we said. It's a good thing those weren't "famous last words." We were hammered.
The punchline of the night happened when we went to the restroom. We were so drunk that we'd forgotten to pee, and it hit us both at the same time. There was another guy in there. "Howdy" we said. "How are y'all?" he replied. "Good, man, good." As we were standing there with situation in hand, a big dude walked in. He was large and in charge. He was wearing a burnt orange leisure suit, which you might have to Google, with matching boots and cowboy hat.
We nodded and he said "Hey fellas." He turned to the other guy and said, "Hey man...you lookin' for something? What you need? I got reefah, CO-caine, reds, heron...what you need man?" The guy said, "What I needs is a '85 Seville...with a sun roof!" It hit our funny bones with a sledgehammer and we lost it laughing. We were laughing so hard that we couldn't pee straight, and we were splashing our shoes. The dealer guy also burst into laughter in a really deep voice, and we were all just dying. You can't buy comedy like that.
Anyway that's the story, once again. We made it back safely, with one heck of a funny story to tell. Don't drive drunk! THE END.
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