About an hour ago, a fabulous drag queen named Maybelle Sugarbiscuits showed up at our door with two garment bags containing our costumes. And there was a tote of shoe boxes and wigs. When I unzipped Rand’s costume, I laughed so hard I thought I’d pee my pants.
He’s standing in front of me, frowning, as he adjusts his skin-tight black cropped Spandex leggings. He wiggles, and the matching off-the-shoulder Spandex top nearly pulls down to reveal his fake boobs.
“Careful there, SANDY,” I point at the chicken cutlets that make up hisfoobs. “You’re about to give the audience an eyeful.”
He rolls his eyes. “Okay, DANNY. Tell me again why I have to wear this costume?”
“Because the audience won’t expect a gender-bender.”
Leave it to Midnight Louise to not only come up with a kick-ass song that will get the crowd going but put a spin on it that will hopefully ensure a win for us.
Rand shakes his head. “How long until we have to go down?”
I look at the clock on the nightstand. “We need to head down now. Mara gave me the 15-minute warning about five minutes ago.”
Rand grabs a pair of enormous high-heeled shoes and makes for the staircase.
“Hold up there,Sandy,” I stop Rand before he hits the steps. “You need to wear shoes. You can’t go roaming around the hotel in bare feet.”
“I can barely stand up in these things for the length of the song, much less walk all over the resort,” Rand complains. “I’d rather have dirty feet from no shoes than break my ankle. I don’t know how women do it.”
“That’s why God gave us a little junk in our trunk,” I shake my booty. “Evens out the weight distribution.”
Rand’s eyes glint with mischievousness.
“Nope. Stop right there,Sandy,” I back away. “We don’t have time to get this started. And I’d hate to ruin your lipstick.”
“Did I mention this is ridiculous,Danny?”
“Only about a hundred times,” I pull his face toward mine and kiss his cheek. “And I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it.”
With a heavy sigh, my Imaginary Fiancé, dressed like Olivia Newton-John, heads down the stairs.
It’s going to be an exciting evening.
???
The ballroom is packed. There’s a stage that resembles something fromAmerica’s Got Talent, but instead of Simon, Heidi, and Howie, we have a motley crew of judges. There’s a 60-something Black man with perfect hair, wearing a suit on a Saturday night. He sits stiffly in his chair. I recognize him as Mattix Bergeron, a local television news anchor. Next to him is the most beautiful 20-something Latinx woman with flawless skin. She holds up her phone and makes duck lips and other faces as she snaps away. Then, there’s a man of indeterminate age and background, wearing a trucker hat, flannel shirt, and mirrored aviator shades, like he’s about to go all-in on televised poker. There’s something familiar about him, though. I just can’t quite put my finger on it.
We take our seats next to Yuki and Lily.
“Isn’t this exciting?” Lily wiggles in her seat.
“Sure is,” I agree.
“Are you two going to perform?” Rand asks Yuki.
She snorts and shakes her head no. “Are you kidding? I’m a terrible singer, and Lily - God love her - cannot dance to save our lives. We thought it best to be your cheerleaders this evening.”
My response is cut off by the lights dimming and a petite blonde woman taking the stage.
“Good evening, and welcome to Dareoke - Reunion Edition!”
Everyone in the ballroom claps like this is a golf tournament.
She pops her hip. “Now, y’all can do better than that. Let’s try this again. Welcome to Dareoke - REUNION EDITION!”
That gets everyone pumped up, and she smiles into the darkness.
