RuPaul I Ain't

I went wig shopping today at Ms. Wigs on 14th Street. This has to have been one of the funniest and most emotionally complicated experiences of my life.

And I learned something about myself.

I am one butt-ugly chick.

No really. As a girl, not even drunk, fat guys would fuck me. Not even if I told them I sucked cock like a fag. (Which, of course, I do.)

But it wasn't until about the fifth or sixth wig that I even managed to achieve butt ugly chick.
With my beard scruff, the first several just said, "stoned, hippie, slacker Wayne's World reject."

The owner of the shop was this very bored, itty-bitty, middle-aged Asian woman who was so short she couldn't even reach my head. I had to bend over so she could straighten each wig as I tried it on, because I had no clue what I was doing.

Also shopping at Ms. Wigs were some rather sexy, young-ish black women and a drag queen of, shall we say, a certain age? The drag queen had her very, very, very, hot, hot, hot, Latin boy toy in tow. Did I mention he was hot? Like, fuck-him-on-the-counter-with-his- sugar-momma-and-the-owner-of-the-shop-watching hot.

What is it with Latin boys and ugly, white, middle-aged drag queens?!?! Maybe when I'm middle-aged, if I can't get laid anymore I'll start doing drag so I can get me some of them Latin boys.

Each new wig I tried elicited giggles from these two. When I exclaimed "damn I'm an ugly woman," sugar-momma said, with tourists peering through the door, "oh no you're not, honey, you'll be pretty once you shave."

My head then exploded. Which is why there are no photos. That, and I want to be able to show my face in public again. If you want to see me in my new "Brunette Veronica Flip" you'll just have to come to the show. (Dear, sweet, Jesus, what have I gotten myself into?)

The drag queen kept trying on wigs and making comments like, "no, no, no, I'm already a blonde, I want a change." Then she asked me if I thought the black bob she had on made her look like Monica Lewinsky.

I replied, "no, Andy Warhol."

She seemed satisfied and bought the wig.

I'm actually slightly relieved to know I'm an ugly chick. I don't think whatever fragile sense of my own masculinity I cling to in self delusion would survive the revelation that I'd make a good drag queen.