I Left My Heart in San Francisco

So.
Here we go.

I might have to do this in bullet form, I'm just feeling that kind of flow.

• Met Diva Dan at The Supperclub doors. She was ready to go in a blonde wig and a bathtowel wrapped around her bod. She was setting up a bed on the sidewalk to invite people into the club and to take reservations for the show...in her towel, perched upon the bed, on the sidewalk. Can I just say right now how much I miss San Francisco?
• Went upstairs to meet ex-husband, ex-husband's girlfriend and my old dance partner (Diva's life partner). Meet Michael, Corrie and Mario, respectively. Got right to work being a backstage-bitch sewing, setting up the stage, etc.
• Got into the evening's get-up: white wifebeater, men's boxerbriefs, four inch black patent leather peep-toe heels and a black silk peignoir.
• We all tromped downstairs and layed ourselves artfully on the gigantic bed in the middle of the dancefloor (our "table"). My friend Lovesong was dressed up as a bedbug and she bravely went around to each bed/table and cuddled, scratched or slept all over the patrons.
  
• Proceeded to be lavished with champagne. Even the dancers imbibed before the show. Holotta Tymes (another Drag Queen there to perform) flew across the bed to chat with me when I remarked that Diva's second outfit was "very Barbara Stanwyck." Holotta was encouraging the dancers to down more bubbly...she wanted to see them dance drunk.
• Shandy and her boy showed up and joined us on the bed.
  
• The food, oh the food. We started with a beautiful citrusy salad served in metal dog bowls with chopsticks. Then we had the best soup I've ever had. It was some sort of corn thing in a rocks glass.
  
• Between the salad and soup, a 25 year-old-kicking body Opera singer performed. She was wearing a white hand-held masquerade eye mask, a Marie Antoinette wig, a black corset, fundies, a garter with stockings, and a black strappy hoop skirt made of ribbons so you could see through to her legs. Wow. Her voice was divine. Set the mood for the whole night.
• After soup we had slices of beef on soft polenta and then Michael come out pushing his Ducati Monster on the dance floor. The piece was called Outline. He was out of gas, literally and figuratively. His makeup made him look tired and dead. He danced like the downtrodden. He pulled out an eviction notice, an IRS notice, an alimony notice. And then a gun. He does himself in and falls to the floor. Then the dancers came out. Or down. The stage was on the floor level, but they started on the second floor, sliding in these amazing ways down the banister. They were reminiscent of the devil beings in Ghost, except not all Disney and amateur looking. They were mean and tortured. Mario had his scary contact lenses in. They danced with abandon and total commitment. Made me miss dancing for a second... Michael got up as a spirit and they pulled and prodded him until he fell to the ground once again and they finished the piece by outlining his form with pink chalk. It. Was. Awesome.
• Back to the food. The fourth course was salmon - I have no idea how is was because I was really drunk by then. Shandy and Co. left for another engagement and Verna and Co. showed up. It was girls night for them. (I'd like to point out at this moment that their Girl's Night consisted of dressing up like Japanese Street Urchins, drinking their faces off at a night club, and dancing with each other til the wee hours. My usual girls night is a glass of wine in someone's living room, or if we're feeling really wild, a patio bar. Ooooooh. What has my life become?)
• Holotta got up and did the I Love Lucy Vitameatavegemin bit, which was hilarious. She was spot on.
• Somewhere along the way I lost the 25 dollars I was carrying in my hand to pay for a 20 minute back massage. Oh well, it was a free night for me, so someone got a nice tip.
• Diva Dan (after changing for the 5th time - it was like the GD Oscars!) did her bit with a latex vagina and calf birthing lube. Yeah, you heard me. Calf birthing lube. I've never been so entertained and grossed out at the same time.
• Dessert (who wanted to eat after that?!) came out. It was some sort of peach cobbler thingy with a cookie on top. Again, very drunk, not too clear on that one.
  
• The bed got split in half, pushed to the sides and the dance floor was made available to the hoards that came pushing through the doors from the bar. They open the dining area to the bar crowd once the meal has been served.
• So for the rest of the night, I spent time with all the performers and my friends dancing, chatting, dancing, getting hit on and dancing.

It was everything I wanted it to be. I called it quits around 1:45 because I had my flight home the next morning. I could have danced all night, however, my knees are still disagreeing with that statement. It is nearly a week later and they are still mad at me for abusing them so badly. The fluid is going down, but boy was it worth it! Cartilage be damned! You only live once!