Boys blowing bananas at Sidetrack. pix by Kirk
Well you all will be glad to know that since last week's column, I declared supreme and utter victory over the evil Liz and took all top ten spots on the Word Builder board at SoFo. At this point, I'm just fortifying my defenses. Anyone man enough to challenge my reign? Bring it.
Last night I also experimented with other bar games. After a smashing show of six or seven of 100 drag queens at Sidetrack ( logistically this was THE most amazing spectacle I've ever seen outside of a Broadway stage! ) , I made my way up to Big Chicks. There I was plied with oatmeal cookie shots until I couldn't see straight. So, obviously, I had to get up to Clark's.
Somehow in my conversation with my friend Jason, I got it into my head that I wanted to play Scrabble. When's the last time you saw drunks playing Scrabble in a bar at 3 a.m.? Well, apparently it had been a while for everyone there, because we made quite the spectacle. Funny how in that fucking bar, the only outrageous thing you can come up with to do to stand out is to sit around a table with a Scrabble board. If I had cracked someone over the head with a pool cue, no one would have blinked. But bust out the Scrabble and the whole room gasps. It's called literacy, folks. Get some.
We had to go to press early and could not include any wonderful ( I can only predict ) Halloween shots. Tune in next week for the goodness.