I think I have had a very strange weekend. I'll let you decide.
Dainty is down in Key West playing in "The Wiz." Of course he's Evilene.
Arcadia's passenger seat has a tendency to fall backwards. So she kept revving the motor so that my head would land on Romero's crotch all the time. Then she kept falling out of her bathing suit. She kept asking one of us to put them back in because she couldn't let go of the steering wheel.
In Key West, I told her she could have the bedroom and Romero and I would sleep on the pullout couch. She suggested it would be cozier to sleep together. Romero of course agreed.
"You two can sleep together if you want. I'll stay out here." I said, directing the "you" at Romero.
Romero caught my message. He may be straight and free the rest of the time but when he's in my company, he's gay and mine.
She tried everything she could to get us over there. She screamed in the middle of the night that she was scared. Came out wrapped up in a sheet saying that she was cold. I suggested she would warm up a lot quicker if she got dressed.
Finally, late at night, after a long while without one of Arcadia's personal appearances, Romero and I started to get a little frisky with each other. At one point when Romero couldn't emit a sound, I heard a whirring noise. I turned in the direction of the bedroom door and saw it opened a crack. I jumped out of bed and walked over there. You're not going to believe this. I found a tiny movie camera lodged between the doorframe and the door pointing up at our bed
I was too shocked to even confront her with it.
I opened up the film holder, exposed the film to the light and put it back. Try developing that at Fotomat tomorrow morning!
This is the soap opera of the century. I mean even Susan Lucci would get an Emmy with this one.
I told you about my choreographing job, right? Well it's for this big shot comedian. He's like a Hispanic Milton Berle. Ibis, who introduced me to him, told me the whole scoop.
It seems he's married to this lady who's the lesser-known sibling of a famous singing duo. She's bitter about being relegated to second banana status to her husband.
Arpeggia, the second rate chanteuse, is also up in arms about the fact that her niece is an international singing star while her own daughter is married to a member of Si,Si, Si. I thought it was a Latin Rock group. It's actually C.C.C. The Colombian cocaine cartel.
She's jealous of everyone that comes into the show that might be competition. All other women, for example, or dancers. You see, she only sings in Spanish so anybody who introduces music to the show that she cannot participate in, she resents.
Now it turns out that both Arpeggia and Buffo are gay. Their marriage is pure convenience. Problem is, Arpeggia has her lover, Lambada, who lives with them and passes herself off as the nanny. Buffo has no one so he's always on the prowl. She is really paranoid that his tomcatting might become public and shed some suspicion on their marriage thus trickling down suspicions on her. Very Reaganomics.
It gets better. Neither of her two daughters is biologically his. He only legally adopted them. The first daughter, Bambi, who hasn't been around in years since she turned in two drug dealers and two
Is this wild or what?
I had a pretty wild surprise myself at The Harlequin. Though not totally unexpected. I told you that I thought something was amiss with my nephew Juanchi? Well something is amiss. He is a miss. He came in full drag calling himself DelMonte De Rivera. He said he named himself after the fruit cocktail.
After the show I had a long talk with him.
"I've always felt this way, uncle. When I had a bad day at school, I'd go home and put on some of Mom's makeup and clothes. It would relax me. Problem was, Mom has no taste. I looked like a Salvation Army drag queen. Then I got that meat market job at Publix. I was the only butcher with black pumps under his apron. I tried to wear red ones so that they would match better with the blood, but the manager wouldn’t let me. I don't think I can walk in flats ever again."
"You don't go to school like that, do you?" I asked him, imagining the look on the nuns' faces at Our Lady of Perpetual Motion.
"I don't go to school."
It seems that my sixteen-year-old nephew had dropped out of school four months ago. Of course his mother has not noticed. She became an evangelist after Richard's death. Remember when Richard died in
Lucy spends so much time in church since then that when she kneels down to pray people put coins in her hands expecting her to light up.
So now Juanchi is a drag queen high school dropout. And he's hanging around with a very bad crowd. I guess hanging around Dainty sort of inured me to the realities of the transgendered world. These guys have breast implants and collagen cheeks and silicone butts. Most of them support themselves by either prostitution or drug pushing. Or both.
He hasn't gone that far yet. He's still physically male. But his best friend is Bunny Hutch. She's this top drag artist who has a forty-inch chest and a twelve-inch penis. And doesn't hesitate to show them both off at the same time. She also manages to work as a secretary to a councilman in Miami Springs. She claims no one at city hall knows that she's a man.
I really don't know what to do. My nephew should be in school regardless of his orientation. He's too young to be traipsing around in clubs. But I can't betray a confidence. And my sister is so far gone into her cloistered lifestyle that this could just kick her over the edge of the convent.