| rev:text
| - Let me tell you all a story about how I didn't think I'd ever be someone who'd feel the need to adopt a "three strikes" policy, until I came to this place three times.
This story is also known as "I was 'talking to' a girl that I still kinda have a thing for, even though I shouldn't, and that's entirely because she likes this place but I hate it so every time she says we should come back I flatly refuse and now I think she thinks I hate her."
The first time I ever came to this place:
I was excited! How could this be the only place in TO with a regular drag king show? And, um, starting at 11pm on Wednesdays?
So, like a nerd, because I am one, I dragged my friends there at 10pm. You know, just in case we wanted to get great seats or something.
Ha.
When we got there, some sort of an elderly tango/salsa class was happening. And by class, I mean three people, with absolutely nobody else on the premises except a handful of staff. So my friends and I played a bit of pool, then after about 10 minutes we started discussing amongst ourselves what drinks we wanted and if it seemed like they carry Strongbow. (They don't.) We wrapped up our game, collected our change and set up another one, and then got yelled at by (presumably) the owner: "Buy drinks or leave." Verbatim.
So we did, then watched the show (which was alright), then left a little before 1am when there were still(?) not a whole ton of people there. Maybe 35 max.
The second time I came to this place:
Was when I was 'talking to' a girl I had a few mutual friends with. We'd arranged to check out the drag show with our friends as a getting-to-know-you type thing. I don't normally note this in stories, but it's important to this one, so: the girl I was with was white, and our friends and I were all POC. The typical clientele here: largely white. All the staff: white.
So again, we get there early, and snag some seats at the tables in the front. Thinking I'd head off the belligerent owner from before, I went and got myself a drink before coming back to sit down as the show was starting. One of the drag kings doubled as the MC and was cracking a few jokes at the mic. He asked us if we were planning on drinking (since there's no cover and that's how they make their money), I pointed at my drink, my friends said they were planning on "sharing" with me. He said the same thing I was thinking ("lol, sure") and moved on.
Midway through the show he came back to us and asked if we were all still "sharing" the same drink, so I was like, "I'm still working on it." Then he asked me if I was the type of "little Asian girl" to get "red-faced and wasted off of one drink." Okay, firstly, I can HANDLE my alcohol. Secondly, wtf? So what if I am? That's an unnecessarily aggressive question to ask the one person in the group who actually DID spend money at your bar.
But then it just kept getting better. He was like, "So what happens, then? Your eyes get squinty and you start smiling like this?" and he screwed up his face in a mean caricature of the "squinty-eyed" Asian smile, complete with peace sign and all. The girl I was with interjected, "I like squinty eyes, though!" and he was like, "I bet you do," and winked, which, I mean, I can see what she was trying to do but that was the wrong way to do it. Then the drag king finally clocked my reaction and was like, "I mean, not that I'm racist, or anything..." Hey, guess what? For someone who ~isn't racist~ you just did some pretty fucking racist things, and singled me out in a crowd of largely white people, in an establishment that has already felt fairly hostile.
We left about a half hour later, again before 1am, and again before(?) there was a crowd.
The third and last time I came here:
Oh, World Pride. You were a hoot. You were also so jam-packed most nights that I reluctantly ended up back here because it was (surprisingly, of course) the only place that wasn't already full.
So I'm reluctantly trailing my friends into the line, and guess who's taking a smoke break outside? The same drag king from before. Fueled by copious amounts of liquid courage, I gather my nerve and approach him as he's entertaining his fans with the farthest expression from a squinty-eyed smile on my face, with a super eloquent: "Hey, do you remember me?"
He was likely also wasted, so he just stared at me for a bit before going, "You know, I kind of... like, I might?" So I save him from running through a mental rolodex of all the people he's done dirty and go, "Last time I was here you said some pretty fucked up things to me during the show." Then he was like, "Oh, man, yeah, I totally remember you now" -- he clearly did not -- "and I'm so sorry if you felt offended, that wasn't my intention at all, I promise to never make those kinds of jokes again." Me: "Great. Happy Pride."
Two minutes later, he's at the mic making abortion jokes.
Bye.
|
![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)
![[cxml]](/fct/images/cxml_doc.png)
![[csv]](/fct/images/csv_doc.png)
![[text]](/fct/images/ntriples_doc.png)
![[turtle]](/fct/images/n3turtle_doc.png)
![[ld+json]](/fct/images/jsonld_doc.png)
![[rdf+json]](/fct/images/json_doc.png)
![[rdf+xml]](/fct/images/xml_doc.png)
![[atom+xml]](/fct/images/atom_doc.png)
![[html]](/fct/images/html_doc.png)