Last Friday I was working with Sven, and one of our co-workers came in wearing a costume. She is a very small, bleached blonde girl who generally goes for the tons of black eyeliner and a hot pink shirt look. But that day she came in full cowboy gear, plus a black wig, big black eyebrows, and a mustache that at first glance was passably realistic.
"Hey. So you're going tonight then?" asked Sven.

"Yeah. I have to work until like eight-thirty, so I won't have time to go home and change. Are you going?"

"Yeah. I'm meeting Dana at eight and we're going together."

So this was a first. A Drag Ball in Montpeculiar. And Sven, quiet, reserved Sven, was going. Hmm.

"Sven, what are you about a 34 waist?" I asked.

"Yeah. Why?"

"I'm pretty sure I have a skirt that will fit you if you want one."

"Really? Well, that's okay, I have a floral shirt and some overalls..."

So the rest of the day is busy and I forget the whole thing. Sven leaves at four, and then at five, I get a phone call:

"Do you have a top that would go with the skirt? What kind of look are we talking about? I don't have any tights, ether."

We discuss it a little further, and I tell him I have whatever he needs, plus makeup, which I will happily assist him with. He says he'll think about it and get back to me.
An hour later, the phone again:
"Would you want to GO to this thing? The ticket would be free. ANd would it be easier f I come to your house?"

I politely decline, because I am tired and looking forward to staying on the couch watching TV and drinking a beer or two. He finally hangs up when I agree to think about it.
So I pick him p after work and come to my house, where I plop him in the guest room and immediately raid my closet for anything remotely suitable. After a few changes and some hemming and hawing, he ends up in black tights, a denim mini skirt, and a long sleeved cowl neck sweater that looks like Sesame Street exploded all over it. (Translation: It's colorful and stripey). The crowning glory is a necklace that I have owned for over a year and still not found occasion to wear, featuring a four inch gold and white owl on a hideous fake gold chain. It was glorious. We moved over to his place for the makeup since he was waiting there for Dana. It took quite a bit longer to put makeup on him than the three minute job I usually do on myself on the rare occasion when I even bother with it, and by the time we were halfway through I was well into the spirit of the occasion, so I did myself up in a Nick Cave meets Dave Navarro style and went as his date.
It was so quiet when we got there that I hadn't realized that the show was already going. In Athens, drag is well attended, loud, crass, and very, very drunk. Here it takes place in a hotel ballroom with a tiny sound system and three guys who look like they escaped from the set of A Prairie Home Companion. They were in dresses, sure, but the songs and the jokes were safe enough for an old folks' home, and everyone (by "everyone" I mean "the thirty people who showed up on time") was sitting at tables sipping their drinks and golf-clapping after every joke. I looked at Sven, Sven looked at me, and we both headed straight for the bar.
It got better. A few people we worked with were there when we arrived. I was actually very tired, and I knew the b.h. would be calling for a ride when he was done with class, so I finished my first beer quickly and ordered a second round so I could get another drink for Sven, since he bought my ticket. The ladies were just in the middle of a very rousing number when my phone went off. I excused myself and ran to the back, and told the b.h. I'd be there shortly. When I got back to the table, the real trouble started pouring in the front door. I was a little bit sorry to leave just as the rowdy co-workers arrived, but at least I knew my date was in good hands. The local LGBT scene needs a lot of help here, but I'm glad they seem to be off to a good start and I was happy to be a part of it.

In other local dance news, there's this:

http://www.necn.com/10/08/10/High-school-cancels-dance-over-dirty-dan/landing_arts.html?blockID=327684&feedID=4214

This was all the talk today when I got to work. FRONT PAGE NEWS in our local paper, in fact. I still can't believe it. Perhaps I do actually live in Mayberry.