To Be Fair, She Did Look Better Than I Did.

11/03/2010 · 21 comments

in Grace, How Did My Life Come To This, I'm A Terrible Person, My Family Is Strikingly Odd.

I got in a fight with a drag queen at my sister’s bachelorette party.

Looked like this.

It started off as a fine night. A Mad Hatter’s Tea Party, where Lana had planned for us to drink Texas Tea and make fucked-up hats and hit the gay bars. There would be scavenger hunts for shots and penis candy and dancing and MERRIMENT.

What people typically do, right?

Yeah, no. I went too far.

At first, is was just us gals, sitting on the floor hot gluing banana-scented dicks to straw hats and pipe cleaners like we were Lady Gaga’s costume crew. It was all twats and glitter, and all was well in the land.

Crafty Motherfucker

And then, Lana broke out the Texas Tea.

Y’all, that was the strongest shit I have ever drank in my life. It was like Jack Daniels took you to Vegas to party then kicked you in the face. In your mouth. That’s what she said.

What should have been a tad bit of whiskey in some cranberry juice was actually a fifth of Jack, a handle of black-market Vodka, and a Phoenix tear of cranberry juice. It was fucking magic.

I didn’t really feel all that drunk at first, but as we were loading up into the TrailBlazer, it hit me. I sat in the cargo hold (I know it’s dangerous, shut your face), and quietly laughed to myself for the entire half hour ride to the clubs. I just kept getting more and more drunk the longer I sat alone, allowing my body to absorb the alcohol. No one tried to engage me as I sat like a crazy person, staring out the back window, waving to people behind us.

This was a mistake on the part of those in the group with me. When hammered, I should always be in motion. This constant motion keeps me busy, and unable to concoct plans and a shitty attitude for the rest of the night, leaving me without ammo for potentially poor interactions, where I think I’m charming while, in reality, am just this side of arrest-able.

Once inside, I was suddenly entranced with how many dicks I saw. There were dicks galore. It looked like the Mid-West, if the Mid-West farmed dicks instead of wheat.

Dicks, y’all.

“Grace, there’s a lot of wangs around me.”

“Noa, shut the fuck up, you’re yelling.”

“THERE ARE DICKS AT EYE LEVEL.”

Dicks, y’all.

But anyway.

The reward of the scavenger hunt is, as mentioned, shots. The more you find, the more you drink. It became my mission to find every damn thing on that list. I KNEW THIS WAS THE REWARD ON THE CAR RIDE THERE. Do you see why I shouldn’t be left alone? I was planning, y’all, planning.

So, one by one, my drunk ass sprinted all over the bar with my team, picking up someone’s panties, a phone number, a condom, lipstick, and collecting shots, shots, shots, shots.

At some point, my body acknowledged that I had taken in around 5 gallons of liquid in one hour, and had not gone to the bathroom. I walked inside, and immediately saw a spectacular sight.

She was probably 7 feet tall in her heels. Wearing a gold dress and a killer wig–bitch was WORKIN’ IT while dancing in the mirror. As she was re-packing the wang and straightening her wig, I made the offhand comment, “Bitch, you look good.”

This is the last part of the conversation that made any sense to me. I was being genuine–she really looked good. But, as said before, I shouldn’t be left alone to soak in booze, lest I say something shitty later on.

Apparently, what she heard was, “bitch, uuuuaghakkkndndndnndd.”

Golden Drag Queen: “Girl, WHAT DID YOU SAY?”

Me: “I said, you look good.”

Golden Drag Queen: “I KNOW you didn’t just say some shit in my face in here. I will kick your skinny ass like you have never SEEN before, HO.”

Y’all, I totally believed her. She was right in my face, backed up against a wall, and we were the only ones in the bathroom. She really was going to kick my fucking ass, because I was a slurring idiot.

I didn’t stay to pee. I ran back up to Grace and Lana, innocently dancing on a pole in the middle of some shirtless men.

Me: “We gotta go.”

Lana: “Why? What the fuck did you do?”

Me: “I got in a fight with a Drag Queen.”

Lana: “WHAT?”

Me: “Really, we should go.”

As they stood there, mouths agape at my stupidity, THERE SHE CAME AROUND THE CORNER. I’ve never seen someone sprint so fast in heels so tall, but we hauled our asses out of there.

Later, in Whataburger:

Grace: “Did it seem like a good idea at the time?”

Me: “She picked the fight with me.”

Grace: “She was 7 feet tall.”

Me: “All I said was she looked good, WHICH SHE DID, and she got huffy.”

Lana: “I wish we could go anywhere without you two requiring us to duck and cover from someone.”

Lana, that day will come.

But then again, Lana has the two of us to contend with.

Coconuts November 3, 2010 at 5:18 pm

OMG! That sounds like the FUNNEST NIGHT EVER! Whataburger is always the place to go to try & figure out exactly what happened & assess the situation you now find yourself in. I had a similar experience with a biker chic & sure as shit, we left & went to Whataburger on the bay but that was before I moved to East Texas & was still barhopping my way across Corpus nightly.

Noa Gavin November 4, 2010 at 12:19 am

Coconuts-Have you ever played WhataBingo? Whenever they call out an order number over the intercom, IT IS ALWAYS YOUR NUMBER. Try it, tons of fun.

Theora_Jones-Dear God, you impress me with your endless list of what the hell.

Grace-There were so many dicks it was difficult to distinguish where one wang began and another ended (in testicles). Bitch was scary. Happy Bachelorette!

Theora_Jones November 3, 2010 at 6:28 pm

Remind me to tell you about the big Thanksgiving dinner where I alienated 34 heretofore-unknown-to-me lesbians by accidentally cueing up Eurythmics “I Need A Man” on the boombox.

Grace November 3, 2010 at 11:12 pm

You forgot about the part where she lifted her skirt to show off her dick while on-stage challenging you to a fight, she could also have been challenging you to a dance-off, it was a little difficult to tell at that point. I’m pretty sure she carried around her own fog machine for effect.

Elly Lou November 4, 2010 at 1:02 pm

As long as she didn’t start popping off her nails, you were safe. That’s when it’s ON. Not that I would know.

Bridget November 4, 2010 at 1:25 pm

If you had held your ground, I bet that drag queen and you would have been best friends. ALWAYS HOLD YOUR GROUND.

annah November 4, 2010 at 4:39 pm

I totally laughed at this. YOU ARE CRAZY. How can your tiny self drink so much?

And if I’m ever around your neck of the woods, we’re partying!

A Vapid Blonde November 4, 2010 at 11:06 pm

What I would have done? Since you asked.

I would have calmly turned to her when she didn’t understand me the first time and cleared my throat *ahem* and then I would have said slowly and clearly…

“I SAID NICE ADAMS APPLE”

Then I would have splashed water all over the floor as I backed out and just before I left I would have knocked over the garbage.

Thus giving me enough time to go do a shot.

Noa Gavin November 4, 2010 at 11:22 pm

Blonde- DAMN! I knew I could have done better. Will remember for next time.

Annah- I’m Irish and I married an Eastern European. Drink is what we do.

Bridget- Noted.

Elly- I’m getting all these great Drag Queen deflection tips now. Where the hell were you?

Pam the Realtor November 5, 2010 at 10:12 am

Funniest story ever! I so needed a laugh yesterday and am so happy I ran across your blog. Thank you for sharing.

Noa Gavin November 5, 2010 at 8:33 pm

So glad you liked it, Pam the Realtor! I hope I can keep living up to your standards of funny.

elizabeth- flourish in progress November 6, 2010 at 10:20 pm

Pack your bags, Noa, we’re going to Vegas.

You are obviously the perfect person to go to Vegas with.

Noa Gavin November 8, 2010 at 11:56 am

I’m free whenever. But, we’ll have to launder some money so that you aren’t blowing your non-shopping promise at Thunder Down Under.

Kernut the Blond November 7, 2010 at 1:18 pm

LOL Sounds like a fun and scary night!

BTW – Just saw your tweet to @kernutheblonde in the sidebar. OMG! Now I’m freaked out someone want’s to know my real identity. Crap – I hope it’s not the fuckwit lawyers I work for. They have no sense of humor.

(Oh, my twitter account is @kernut :)

Noa Gavin November 8, 2010 at 11:55 am

AAAAAND, I suck. Tweetdeck won’t auto-fill handles like twitter.com will. Sorry!

Kernut the Blond November 8, 2010 at 4:36 pm

Nooo, you don’t suck at all! And today Twitter isn’t even doing the autofill thingy. I have to be the most twitter challenged person ever. Well, actually my boss is probably at the top of the list.

The Cheeky Bride November 8, 2010 at 12:29 pm

Dude. Freakin hilarous.

Amanda November 8, 2010 at 8:40 pm

Fucking hilarious!! And now I’m trying to keep my kids to stop asking me why I’m laughing. Sounds like it would be great to party with you!

Noa Gavin November 9, 2010 at 8:29 pm

I am pretty fucking awesome to party with. Wanna join?

Lynne May 18, 2011 at 10:51 am

I’m still stuck on the What-A-Burger reference. There was one across from my pediatrician’s office in Tennessee and I remember being heartbroken when it closed down when I was around 7 years old. I was tickled beyond reason to discover the restaurants still in North Carolina with one conveniently located near my house. I went there last week. First time in 35 or so years I’ve had a What-A-Burger. It’s like if bacon and cheese could hug you. It’s like all the feelings of love and happiness from all things you cherish, stuffed between a bun. I bet if I had looked closely enough, I’d have seen rainbows and unicorns shooting out from under the stacks of burger wrappers but I was too busy gluttoning the burger.

Noa May 18, 2011 at 12:30 pm

I love Whataburger, until last tuesday when they grilled a beetle into my toast. Yum.

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