It's amazing that one can wake up in the morning and have no clue whatsoever that, by the end of the day, a man in a dress, trying to like Marilyn Monroe and pulling it off quite impressively, will be sitting on one's lap.
I will now explain how in the heck things got to that point.
It all started out very innocently last Friday. My friend Kendall mentioned getting out of town for an overnight trip to Sacramento or Lake Tahoe the next day. I said that sounded fun, although I seriously doubted that we would be able to find a place to stay, seeing as rooms on the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend are a hot commodity.
Much to my surprise, Kendall managed to find a room at the Motel 6 in South Lake Tahoe (the city, not the actual lake). With that, we headed up the mountain, and after a few stops, we checked into our luxurious accommodations.
We met up with a friend, Steve, and went to dinner. Steve had earlier mentioned that he wanted to go to a show at the Horizon Casino-Resort called Carnival Cabaret. It is a show featuring female impersonators, i.e. men who perform as legends like Reba McEntire, Cher, Carol Channing, Nancy Sinatra and, well, Michael Jackson.
I am not sure what it means that there is someone who performs as Michael Jackson in a female impersonators show, but whatever it means, it can't be good for Michael.
Anyway, Steve wanted to go, and Kendall was cool with that. However, I must admit, I was a bit hesitant. I have always been a little creeped out by cross dressers. I adamantly refused to see "The Crying Game" after I heard what HAPPENS in that movie, and to this day, I get kinda twitterpated whenever I hear the film's theme song by Boy George. And Boy George himself creeps me out a little, too. But that's besides the point.
In the spirit of what-the-hell-edness, I agreed to go. With that, we were off to the 10 p.m. show.
I immediately became weary of the excursion when the usher seated us at the table right in the middle, in the very front. Kendall and Steve immediately took the inside seats, leaving me as the closest person to front-center. I knew I was in serious trouble.
Before I knew it, a handful of beautiful, gorgeous women who, well, AREN'T, were dancing right in front of me. Some of them looked right at me.
I was kinda nervous. As I would later learn, this was for good reason.
Gypsy, a 69-year-old grandfather and cross-dresser, was the host. He was hilarious. He immediately pronounced my table and the one to our left to be full of homos, and the table to my right to be full of lesbians (he was obviously correct in his assumption about their table, and the womyn let everyone know it). He also announced that a man sitting to the far right, the truck-driving father of a soon-to-be-married young woman -- who was present with her mother and fiance as well -- was his dream date.
I escaped Gypsy's humiliation for the most part, and he introduced Marilyn Monroe. She -- I mean he -- I mean -- well, the performer came out, and she was beautiful. She cooed along with the words, looked at me, slowly stepped off stage -- and sat on my lap.
Kendall and Steve about became unhinged with laughter. I sat there, stunned at having a package-toting Marilyn Monroe on top of me, and didn't say a word. She sang to me for a while, got up, and plopped down on another man's lap. I was relieved.
But then she came back.
As Kendall and Steve howled with laughter, and with probably 100 people in the audience. Marilyn sang to me, pushed my face into her fake breasts, took by glasses off, KISSED each lens with her lipstick-laden-lips, smiled and sauntered off.
Oh, one more thing: As she sauntered off, she subtly handed me a moist towelette to clean my glasses. This was nice of her. I mean him. I mean ...
Anyway, I cleaned my glasses, wondering what in the hell had led me to this situation, when Gypsy came out and threw more hilarious jokes around about the gay tables. Soon, he introduced Carol Channing, who took the stage from the audience. And as she approached the stage, she asked the nearest man -- me -- to escort her on stage.
Of course, because God has one hell of a sense of humor, she directed me to get on one knee. I did, and she SAT ON MY KNEE before proceeding to joke about something feeling awful low -- and then rising.
Kendall and Steve almost burst organs and hemorrhaged, because they were laughing so hard.
Anyway, when it was all said and done, "Carnival Cabaret" was a great show, and I highly recommend it. I learned two lessons from the whole thing: One, there is no reason to be creeped out by cross-dressers. They're actually quite fun, as long as they carry moist towelettes.
And, two, NEVER sit front-and-center at a female impersonators show. Trust me on that one.
Jimmy Boegle is a fifth-generation Nevadan. His column appears here Tuesdays, and a column archive may be viewed at jimmyboegle.com.