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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1572003-the-life-of-a-drag-queen
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Young Adult · #1572003
well, read it and you'll see, please review too!
“Oh my look at you Hun!” I said sarcastically to the girl sitting next to me backstage the catwalk. “You look dreadful! Try this” it bothered me so much about how these girls didn’t know a thing about fashion, while I a male knew so much more. I quickly fixed here makeup so it was far more shiny and sparkly and then clapped my hands together. “There we are dear, you look fab!” the announcer loudly said my name over the loudspeaker “Erica Johnson!” he announced with anticipation as I sashayed my way to the curtain to go out on the long runway. “Work it girly! Turn to your left strut, turn to your right, work it hard now, sashay sashay, and good. Now wet your lips and pucker up for the camera!” I did what rick had said. As my best friend, consultant, and inspirational drag queen I trusted him with my life. “And the winner of today’s competition is Erica Johnson! In his red and pink dress and stiletto heels, the judges found him the best model of tonight’s show! Thank you and good night!” I smiled and shot rick a look of triumph. He had been sitting behind the announcer’s desk and he smiled back. I went up accepted my prize and went back stage to get ready for the trip home. I quickly changed into my spandex mini skirt bedazzled of course. And my tight tube top. Which also had rhinestones on it? When rick and I were in the back of the limo I remembered something horrible. “Oh my word!” I said turning to rick, “it’s Thursday! Do you know what that means?” he looked at me in a puzzled way, “um, no what does it mean?” he said. “It means, Richard, that its family game night!” I sighed and looked at him again. He did not understand what I meant. “Richard, that means that I must eat….” I paused for dramatic affect, “...pizza. That high carb atrocious food that my mother forces me to eat!” I shook me head and whined some more. When I got home mother was waiting for me. “O hello dear, I’m so glad your home the pizza just came and I bought a new set of Uno cards. Isn’t that great?” I nodded a fake nod. It would be a horrible night. Finally mom and father went to bed and I was left to watch MTV and design a new outfit. Many people disliked me because of my fashion sense. I could not help who I was. I liked myself like this and gosh damselfly, oops, pardon my French; it was who I wanted to be. Besides I was eighteen now, I could make my own decisions. The next morning, or should I say afternoon, because I had woken up at four o’ clock, I took my silver Porsche to the beach. I was going to test myself on just how much I had learned I’m my three years of being a drag queen, I was going to take the swimsuit challenge. I was wearing a bikini I had designed myself which was red with ping polka dots. So, after parking my car, and walking with my towel and tan lotion, to a sunny spot on the beach, I lay down and began to tan. I got many whistles from hot surfer boys going up the beach. And some comments I prefer to keep to myself at this moment. Several hours and many whistles later, I gathered my stuff and walked back to my car. It was nice and sunny here in Texas, but my dream was California. It was where all the big models lived and I wanted to be one too. When I got home it was close to seven o’clock. Oh drat! I had to leave for bens wedding in two hours! I would have to rush. I picked out a nice, short blue dress and found a nice reddish orange wig for the occasion. I did my makeup very professionally, airbrushed of course darling and headed out the door. The wedding was normal, and boring, nothing out of the ordinary to report. Then, the real fun. The reception party! Drinks, dancing and hot men! My idea of heaven. Yes I know what you’re thinking. Me, an eighteen year old drinking alcoholic beverage? Well of course dear, no one will know. And you won’t tell a soul either. Am I right? So anyway, an hour, a few too many drinks and three hot guys later I was dancing the night away with three men who looked surprisingly dashing for regular old ranch boys. I had my favorite pair of heels on, the ones that are four inches long, and a very expensive dress which I had bought online from a boutique in Paris. Well, I was quite intoxicated and I had lost my balance. Suddenly the room was filled with a horrible crashing sound and a six tear wedding cake crashed and ruined on the floor. And to top it all off guess who was lying in the middle of the large fancy cake? If you guessed me, you are quite a smart little dear. The music stopped and everyone turned to look at me. “Um, hello everyone!” I said, “um, well as you can see…….. Oh my word look behind you! Its Paris Hilton! And look at hr dress shes wearing!” sure enough, everyone turned their heads and I made a speedy escape. Well, as fast as I could limp in a broken heel. I made it onto the deserted patio and slid my shoes off. Well, just my luck! I broke a pair of one hundred dollar shoes, well, lucky they were cheep, and I ruined a six thousand dollar dress, not so cheep. I groaned and walked carefully through the parking lot to my Porsche. It was only about twelve o’ clock very early to be going home after a party, especially your best friends wedding, but I couldn’t stay in these clothes. Once I got home, got washed up, and got into my pajamas, complete with my pink bunny slippers, I slowly drifted to sleep in my nice warm king sized bed. Tomorrow was a new day and yes even though this day was not perfect, a new one would come, or pardon me, it is already here, and the clock said it was one thirty. So with that thought in my head I finally fell asleep.
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