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By Lisa Shields Submitted by Galadrial Date: 2001 Oct 12 Comment on this Work [[2001.10.12.09.14.6326]] |
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Beaulah was freaking gorgeous. Not pretty. Not lovely. Gorgeous. Glamour, mystery, the whole nine yards. Stately, stunning---all the sexy things a woman wants to be...and Beaulah was a guy, which almost made me hate "her" more. I wasn't at the club for the guys---good thing too. Was a gay bar, mixed---and there was something great about the place---tribal. Ecstatic. This was BA---before AIDS---and I was smack dab in the middle of wonderland---MEN everywhere---beautiful men---and it didn't matter that they were there for each other. I was in on a pass---my escorts were happy to dance with me, talk, whatever. Ice Palace 57 was safe. No rapists, no weirdos. Just me and 500 guys. The women had their own enclave there---but I didn't dress right, didn't give off the vibe---to them I was invisible---or maybe a *** hag---but in any event---they kept away. I didn't see Beaulah till the third rum and coke hit. Nature called. Off to the ladies room, which thankfully was for women only---at the Gay clubs that was never a given. And there she sat-----before the vanity mirror. PERFECT. Raven hair, pouty red mouth just waiting to be kissed, dark eyes that whispered secrets of sin---and doing things to a red satin dress that would have gotten "her" arrested in Utah. Oh man...blow to my fragile 20 year old ego. How could a man be more beautiful than a woman? But she was. There was the barest flicker of eye contact...a polite nod, and i was back out again. The dnacing was going nuts...Freddie Mercury...another one rides the bus...it was safe sex for me---dancing with those writheing men, reveling in their macho postures, presented with grace and pure rut. I love men---and it did not matter that I was not looking for a lover. Here I could just enjoy the raw male power of the place. But there was Beaulah...making me feel perfectly shoddy. It had taken three looks to know her for what she was. No hiding the wrist structure---or the ankles...but all the rest...a perfect ten. And I knew she hadn't gone for the surgery either. This one was fully equipt---and still managed to pull off the female thing better than I could with my crummy organic xx chromosone. But what was she doing in the ladies room? There was a club full of guys who would have squired her as readily as they did me---a fact that remained a mystery, but a happy one. In the straight world, I was always second choice---or even third. Here I was the belle of the ball...my choice of dance partners. Here my every word was a witty gem, and the circle of laughter followed me like a halo. I loved these men---for making me feel more gloriously like a woman then "normal" men ever had. But there was Beaulah...on my second visit to the ladies room, I found she still sat, gazing in the vanity mirror, searching for some flaw---one small line marring the forehead---I touched up my make up---which was running to ruin because I was dancing like I always had wanted to---and never had. Sweat was making it run off, and while I wasn't hunting, looking good was a simple matter of pride. Nicky and Jack had warned me about bitch queens---and I had met a few...but Beaulah seemed a perfectly harmless drag queen. Her silence unnerved me. Was I supposed to speak to her or not? If I did, was I crashing a fantasy? Hard to tell. But back out to the boys---more dancing---more laughter as they spun me like a disco princess, and fought over who would partner me next...and strangely---I found my eyes going back again to that ladies room door. Surely she did not mean to stay there all night? Nicky spun me wild----a mistake on such a crowded dancefloor---and sent me careening into a man---he was dressed in a suit---unusual for that place. He smiled into my eyes, nodded, and asked me to dance. Jack and Nicky had nabbed partners for a slow number---so there seemed no good reason not to...and all around me men danced slowly in each others arms...teasing each other---even kissing...a sight I found painfully erotic. I darted my eyes away, feeling like I intruded with my glance---but could not help but look back. It was sweet. Sexy. And very male. I did not know the suited man's name, and when he bent close, I thought he meant to tell me---but instead his mouth came down hard on my own, and I could taste scotch on his tongue. Not quite unwelcome, it was still unexpected. I might have drawn back---but his hands shot up behind my head, and held me there as he kissed deeper---finally sucking in my lip and holding it between his teeth. More than anything, I felt out of place. Men were not supposed to try and kiss me here. I did not want the boys to think I was poaching...and it was three minutes before he released my lip...catching my hand instead. "You are mine tonight." he whispered, the accent faint---but european...and my throat went dry---not with excitement, but fear. My lip throbbed, and whatever this guy's thing was, I was pretty certain I was not near experienced, nor exotic enough for his taste. "Ladies room." I said...and he held my hand right to the door. I got inside, then leaned against it, feeling faintly sick. Trapped? In a gay bar? How the hell had that happened? I looked up, and saw Beaulah studying me in the glass. She spoke low--- "Poor baby---you're being chased huh? And he isn't taking no for an answer." I nodded, shaken. "Well girl---there's no back door here. You're gonna have to leave sometime---we can't talk eyeliner till 5 am..."she said calmly. "No. Guess we can't." I said, crestfallen. Not only was I less pretty, but I was a pretty poor excuse for a woman---no wiles, no gumption. Just a 20 year old kid trying to walk the the walk. "Tell you what little girl..." she said, not unkindly. "I'll clear the way. You'll only have a minute...find your friends and run. The one who's waiting for you---he's a mean bastard. Likes rough trade. And your lip is turning purple, so I know you already had a taste. And it doesn't much look like you enjoyed it." She stood---breathtaking---tossed the boa over her shoulder, shook the mane of curls---and started moving for the door in a haze of Opium fumes. I needed to say something---anything less lame than thank you---- "You are beautiful." I stammered, and looked down. Beaulah froze---one elegant hand reaching for the door handle. Those dark eyes sized me up---looking for something nasty---sarcasm? But I wasn't lying. She was...but somehow just didn't know it. It took me years to understand how I almost ruined that beautiful makeup---but then I did not understand the tears that suddenly flooded her eyes. She fought them back, reached out, and hugged me... "Be careful Little sister," she whispered. "Look out for the mean fish...they bite." A moment later, she walked out...and sure enough, the sensation she caused gave me a chance to run. I found Nicky, dragged Jack away, and we headed back for a Jersey diner. They told me that Beaulah had done something very special---she spent the whole night in that ladies room every time---emerging just before the closing to pick a lover for the night. Her early arrival had given me a chance to bolt---but she would be pestered until she left. Nicky looked at me a moment, when I told him what I said. "Well, she hates you---but she loves you too. NO matter how good she looks, she knows she's only a queen---small "Q". She can fool the boys---but you're a woman. You gave her validation. Tonight she was a Queen---large Q. Good job girl---oh man---look at your lip!" We iced it...but I never forgot Beaulah. The Queen of Ice Palace 57...I didn't best her---because in her heart, she was not only a better woman---but a better lady besides. |