On the last night of my trip to Kansas I hit the streets of Kansas City and did some podcast recording in Westport with Thad and Heath. Nothing could have prepared me for the evenings encore – we ended up at Missie B’s. Thad escaped this near drag experience with the excuse of wife and child awaiting his return.
Heath and I witnessed unspeakable acts – mostly deflated ones. The strange highlights include the drag show surveillance playing out on cheap flat screen tv’s. The color and signal kept flickering in and out, which revealed the drag show (going on in the same room) as the crime scene that it truly was.
Upstairs there was no relief for our ears and eyes, as unlikely contestants had been drafted into some sort of competition. We couldn’t figure out the point exactly and the MC was barely able to muster a groan from the audience. Any remaining blood drained out later when the formerly attractive-enough victims were paraded in adult diapers. It was borderline moment – it could have gone several directions.
During a dance break, a cluster of drunken trampy boys attempted to out-slut each other – on the same pole at the same time. No matter how hard they did the bump and grind, I couldn’t get the image of the earlier leather-faced-cowboy-cum-lord-of-the-dance who had made that pole truly his own.