The Baton Show Lounge

I attended a party for Lanie’s twenty first birthday. After cochinita pibil and cake at the house, and Larry’s toast to the “blues baby,” we all went to the drag theater across the street from the grill. I haven’t been to a drag show in years, but it felt right- coming on the heels of the President’s endorsement of equal rights and being in this place I’d never been to, directly across the street from the restaurant. I sat at a table with the accountant, his wife, and the assistant sommelier. Her name is Victoria and as a regular she took me under her wing, so to speak- she told me when to tip the queens. “I like her dress,” I said about one queen. “Did you give her a dollar? No. They buy all their own clothes. Don’t worry honey, I’ll give her a couple dollars for you.” All the people I work with, from the chefs to the cooks to the waiters to Larry, got up again and again and danced to the stage to tip the queens.

“That’s Miss Chilli Pepper,” said Victoria. “I never give her less than a ten. Chili is the absolute best- she gets a ten dollar bill. Every time. Don’t worry,” she told me, with a glimmer in her eye. “You’re still a real man. And guess what Arthur- they’re all men too.”