Gay Life in Iowa

So as luck would have it, I'm still in Oskaloosa, Iowa awaiting for updates on my MMD status. (MMD is the document/license issued by the coast guard allowing me to work on international waters) Don't feel sorry for me just yet, Argentina. I've actually been keeping busy. On the weekdays, I tend to the sheep and on weekends I party at the local gay scene. (The local gay scene consisting of me and 18 y.o. Billy) I met Billy through a friend, and "through a friend" I mean myspace.

Last weekend I decided to take a chance, throw caution to the wind, and live it up, I took a road trip with Billy to Iowa's major metropolis: Cedar Rapids. Here we would partake in the rituals that the gay (and a few closeted overweight married men) population have been participating in since the dawn of time: drinking, dancing, and being snooty to those who are fashionably insensitive.

We were on our way to meet up with a Sanjeya in Cedar Rapids, (not the American Idol- THANK GOD!) another guy I met "through a friend." (Don't judge.) The two-hour road trip was defined with rules. I was to drive, control the musical selections, and perform a car concert with my all time favorite songs, and Billy was to keep holding the a/c button down on the front panel to force cold air out. Every once in a while I would break into a sweat, for a minute there I thought Kelly Clarkson was transcending through me, but it was Billy...letting go of the a/c button and hot air was flowing through, like Donald Trump at a news conference.

We made it to Cedar Rapids, ah, what a sight for sore eyes. The two tall buildings, the four-car traffic jam, men walking across the street in socks and sandals sporting mullets. Before introducing Billy to Sanjeya, I warned him that Sanjeya could be a bit "over the top" and to brace himself. Billy gave me a blank stare and smiled. Ah, those Iowa bred boys.

Sanjeya: What the fuck took you so long? You were supposed to be here at 6pm BITCH! (Spotting Billy) Oh Hi, I'm Sanjeya.

Billy: Hello.

Nando: I sent you a txt message telling you I was running late and I'd be here at 8pm. Didn't you get it?

Sanjeya: WHAT'S YOUR POINT? (mumbling to himself) I hate little Mexicans with their four feet fucking height who think they can just prance into town and....)

Sanjeya invited us in for some cheap wine and a break down on his history, explaining that he's in his thirties, from Shri Lanka, has been living in Cedar Rapids for over ten years and how he hates "white people." I found this statement to be quite ironic since Sanjeya lives with his boyfriend's parents who happen to be "white." Mike, the boyfriend, works and lives in another city a few hours away and comes down every weekend to spend time with Sanjeya and his parents. This living arrangement is quite progressive if you ask me, but Sanjeya seems to think otherwise.

Sanjeya: So, does jailbait have a fake ID? You ARE at least 18 right?

Billy: Yes, I turned 18 in March.

Sanjeya: Uh-hu. Fascinating. STOP WASTING MY TIME, do you have a fake ID or not?

Billy: (in a nervous and scared tone) No, I'm sorry I don't.

Sanjeya: Then I guess someone is staying in the car while we all go out dancing. You have to be 21 to get into the bars here, NO EXCEPTIONS!

Nando: We can't get him in?

Sanjeya: This isn't NEW YORK sweetie! You can't just "wish things" and they happen. He actually looks like my boyfriend, and if Mike were here, we could use his ID, but he's not. He and his parents went to Minneapolis.

Nando: What about Mike's brother? The guy I see in the photos, isn't he here?

Sanjeya: That photo is 3 years old, HONEY! The brother is now 300 lbs, has some how managed to shrink in height, and has purple hair. Billy here weighs 10 lbs, is tall as hell, and has over-processed hair. (he begins to rub his chin) I'll sneak him in. Billy, are you opposed to climbing in through a window?

After a full bottle of wine and planning a few "mission impossible" schemes as to how to sneak Billy in the Club, Sanjeya suggested we go out for a few "real" drinks at a place where his friend Tony, was the Bar Manager. We walked in and were treated like royalty. It seems that Sanjeya is a regular at this place and had his own bar stool at the front. As soon as we sat down, three pink drinks were place in front of us by a cute little bartender sporting the name tag "Angie." Before I could ask what exactly this drink consisted of, Sanjeya chugged the rose-colored liquid and asked the bartender, "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THIS SHIT? I need a Long Island Ice Tea!" I was shocked, Billy turned red, and the bar tender ran to get the manager. The manager came out, took one look at Sanjeya and gave him a hug.

Sanjeya: Guys, this is Tony....Blah, blah, blah. Where is my drink? Hello, SUNSHINE (waving the bartender down) I asked for a drink an hour ago!

Bartender Angie: And would you like another drink as well?

Nando: Sure, do you have any drinks with ginger? Like a ginger Martini?

Sanjeya: (spitting out some of his drink) WHAT? THIS ISN"T (hiccup) NEW YORK! We don't drink "ginger" in (hiccup) IOWA. What the FUCK is wrong with you? I (hiccup) don't know why I even try?

Tony: Actually, I've have been working on a Ginger Mojito, I'm sure you would like it.

Sanjeya: (in a mocking tone) "I'm sure you would like it," FUCK ginger! Here, have some of (hiccup) my drink.

We ordered a few appetizers, had more drinks, and talked Tony and his boyfriend, who said he'd meet up with us after he got off of work, to go out with us. And so we waited in style, having another round of drinks on the outside patio. Eventually the boyfriend showed up and after introductions, we planned the boys night out.

Sanjeya: Ok, first we will sneak "Billy the Kid" in, YOU REALLY NEED TO GET A FUCK'N FAKE ID KID! We will get him at "Basixs" very easily, but getting him into "The Dragon" will be a challenge. If I were wearing my spandex ½ shirt, we could get him in easily (the bouncers have a little crush on me) but since I am wearing my Dolce Gabbana long sleeve, we will have to think of plan B.

Nando: Let's just go to Basixs and play it by ear. Yeah?

Billy: I'm really sorry guys, I didn't know I had to be 21.

Sanjeya: That's the problem with (hiccup) you white people, you all think (hiccup) that you can just (taking another gulp from his drink) walk around owning everything. No offense (hiccup) Billy, to you or your white family.

Billy: It's ok.

Sanjeya: And YOU (hiccup) with your Mexican spiked hair, what kind of (hiccup) FUCKING hair style is that? This isn't New York! We don't wear (taking another gulp from his drink) our hair like that (hiccup) over here! My GOD! Although I do love your glasses! Can I wear them tonight?

Nando: Not if you want me to kill us all while I am blinding driving to the bar.

Sanjeya: Go to HELL you nasty little MEXICAN (hiccup) I don't wanna wear (hiccup) them anyways. Nando, you know I love you right? Can I touch your hair?

Once we get to the bar, Billy and Sanjeya stood outside by the back door while the rest of us got carded, paid our $1.50 cover charge, and walked into the glamorous bar named 'Basixs'. I had forgotten what the bar looked like, I haven't returned to Cedar Rapids since I left in 2001. Ah, what the gay will do to an old McDonald's fast food restaurant. Although, they worked magic on the place, they left a lot of the building untouched, and you could see the remnants of the decaying fast food chain poking through. The bar area used to be the ordering counter, the dance floor was the dinning room, and the DJ booth was once home of the McFlurry ice-cream maker. They still had some of the old tables, so it was rather difficult to "look sexy and cool" while you were swiveling around in their tiny chairs that were attached to the tables.

The boys went to open the back door for Billy and Sanjeya while I went to the bathroom. I was greeted with charm and lust...I take it back, I was greeted by Dopey and Sleazy.

Sleazy: Wow, I really like your hair...your glasses...your body.

Dopey: Yeah, I like the way your hair sticks up. Can I touch it?

Nando: Thanks fellas, but I am only here to pee.

Sleazy: Can we watch?

Dopey: Do you use mousse?

For a second there, I thought I was back in New York, at the "Monster Bar." I did my business and looked for the boys. Billy was

standing by the DJ booth admiring the Drag Queen's performance. I don't know how to describe the drag queen. I guess I'd have to say she looked like Anna Nicole Smith (pre Trim Spa) and Miss Piggy's illegitimate daughter and her performance was less than convincing.

Where I come from (Texas), we may not care about dental hygiene, we may not understand what three cans of hairspray per day will do to the Ozone Layer, but our drag queens do know how to give a performance. Once upbeat tempo is cued and that spotlight is pointed towards the stage, brace yourself because you are in for a cross gender delight! Our drag queens would get so hyper doing their acts, that a few would even lose their wigs while shaking, strutting, and bouncing around. There is no greater joy than watching a black bald drag queen (with a panty hose tied in a knot on her head) in search for her wig on stage while Tina Turner's Proud Mary is roaring in the background.

This was not a Texan performance, this was Iowa-style. The comatose over weight princess sat in a chair in the middle of the Mc Donald's dining room and lip synced while staring out the drive-thru window. I am no music critic, but Beyonce's "Ring the Alarm" is an fast-paced "all hell broke loose" song about the pain and suffering of a woman who discovers that her man has been cheating on her and she is not going down without a fight. Every time the chorus hit (which is the climactic part of the song) the lazy impersonator would throw her arm in the air as if she were swatting flies. I wanted to ask for my $1.50 cover charge back! Not only did this drag queen need better choreography, she needed a second chance at life. Her second number, a medley of Gloria Estefan's greatest hits wasn't up to snuff. If I wanted to see a large woman in bad make up do the conga, I would attend more family reunions.

Thank God for the next performer. Clyde, the "Drag King." Clyde looked like Laurel from the Laurel and Hardy comedy duo act. Actually I don't know who is who, but Clyde looked like the fat one. In my opinion, Drag Kings should all be shot. In general, butch lesbians should not be seen in public, but to draw on a fake moustache, gel your hair down the middle, and wear a tuxedo in public while performing a Robin Thicke song, well, that's just ridiculous. And lucky for me, I got to see it all!

Cue the song, "Lost without you, " from Robin Thicke and out comes a jolly soldier who resembles not a man, but a rather large 8th grader dressed up as Adolf Hitler for Halloween.

"Lost without you," is a tricky song. The artist himself has a difficult time performing it, as he hits several high notes throughout the piece. In a live performance, which I saw on MTV, the song sounds completely different, since it is obvious that only through the help of "studio magic" is how that song will ever be properly performed. Which also explains how Ashley Simpson will continue to have a career in music.

In the video, Robin closes his eyes and open his mouth wider when a high note is about to erupt from his vocal cords. If he wasn't wearing a suit with hideous white sneakers and trying to court women ½ his age, this would be a hot video. (Just for the record, Billy is not ½ my age, so that catapults me out of the creep category)

Clyde begins the performance by snapping his fingers to the beat, he also throws in a head nod, for artistical value. Once the song begins, I am highly anticipating the first high note...and there we have...YES! Clyde begins to look as if he is suffering from Irritable bowel syndrome every time a high note comes. I am so enjoying this. I want to tip him, but it's not really worth the trouble of getting up from my swivel chair.

Making fun of the performers is getting old and I feel like getting "jiggy" with it. Finally, the dance floor is rid of all "kings and queens" and is now open for business. The first song played disgusted me. It is 2007, and this place is still opening with C + C Music Factory's, "Gonna Make you Sweat." Next was "Pump up the jam," followed by the Theme from "The Ghostbusters."

Everyone was on the dance floor, except for me and Billy. Billy gained awareness of my anger towards the DJ and was secretly singing along to the songs while I wasn't looking. I think he knew what fate had in store for him if I were to actually catch him openly singing along. I went up to the DJ and had a little talk with him. Before you knew it, we had some real stuff to dance to.

After 3 hours of non stop dancing, Sanjeya came up to me and requested we leave and head out to the other club. I ignored him. Sanjeya then went to Billy with the same plea. Billy ignored him. He went to Tony and the boyfriend...They also ignored him. A defeated Sanjeya finally left the dance floor in a huff and went for another drink.

The gang decided to go back to Tony and his boyfriend's place for a little after hours party.

Sanjeya: I (hiccup) don't care what we do. If you (hiccup) want to go then we will go...you...you, I mean you... are my guests and we will....(he passed out in the back seat of the car)

Tony: He'll be fine we'll wake him up once we get home.

Once we got to their place, we had a little problem with Sanjeya.

Nando: Sanjeya, get up, let's go upstairs to Tony's place.

Sanjeya: (slurring) I want three pair and only in the black.

Tony: You are not shopping, you are at my place...come on in.

Sanjeya: (slurring) I want chocolate and another drink.

Billy: Nando, he's sucking on a rag that was in the back seat.

Sanjeya: Tell the dog to stop barking! And tell the white people to (he passes out again)

Tony: Just leave him out here, if he wakes up, he'll know what to do.

Billy: I'll crack a window for him.

We left Sanjeya passed out in the back seat of the car. Was I doing the right thing? Was I being inconsiderate? Was I being a bad guest? No, I think Sanjeya would have appreciated me wanting to continue the party...especially since Tony had the new Roberto Cavalli vodka. After a few drinks upstairs, Billy and I left and drove Sanjeya home where he went to bed dreaming of a world where white people didn't exist.

Moral of the Story:

A. Gay Performers in Iowa should be shot.

B. Making new friends is fun.

C. There is an endless possibility for decaying fast food chains.