The Crown Is Mine

by Berlinda Wall

  "I'm outta here," I said as I un-straddled her husband and picked up my underwear off the floor. "I wish you two the best of things."

  I grabbed the rest of my clothes and shoes and ran out of the apartment as fast as I could. I felt the eyes of the people at the pool on me as I climbed down the flight of stairs. To my chagrin, I got a shout out.

  "Hey Desiree. How's it hanging?" It was Dixie Monroe hanging at the pool in her boy attire. "You fell for his story?"

  I didn't even stop to answer as I ran through the complex and down Monroe to my parked awaiting car. I hopped in, closed the door, and sat in silence.

  CHAPTER 39

  I had been going to Rexasaurass for several weeks now with no luck on meeting the mystery man from the photos. I had even asked the bartenders and none of them knew him or even recognized the photo. They told me the photos were from a charity fundraiser booked in by a group who were not regulars there at the bar, so not a lot of familiar faces that night. Just my luck. So many men and so many crushed fantasies was all I seemed destined for.

  Things had been quiet for a couple of weeks, which was a good thing. It gave me some down time to regroup. This competition was more stressful than I thought, but with the support of my friends and co-workers, it was bearable.

  I had fallen into my old routine of getting up, eating breakfast, and then walking down the street and into the hotel parking garage. Then it was time to push the elevator button and wait. Depending if the hotel was busy, it could be a long wait some days. The joys of working at a hotel.

  We got all types in the hotel day in and day out. Some very attractive, some very freaky, and some down-right sexual. I think I had become a robot at the front desk, repeating the same script day in and day out. "How may I help you?" and "Here is your room key. The elevator is to your right and you are on the tenth floor." Some days it was just too tedious to bear.

  "My name is Spencer Jack, and I have a reservation."

  Before me stood a beautiful man with the most striking brown eyes I had ever seen. They were like a deep vat of chocolate that I could just fall into and become sticky and sweet. It took me what seemed like forever to regain my composure.

  I looked in the computer and didn't see a reservation for Jack Spencer. "We don't have a reservation for Jack Spencer."

  "Ah, a very common mistake. It's Spencer Jack. I'm the person with two first names." And with that, he chuckled.

  How adorable was that. "Yes, now I see your reservation in the computer. It says you are checking in with a dog correct?"

  "Yes, Thunderball is my assistance dog."

  I didn't see Thunderball, but then I heard the bark and looked down over the counter to see the cutest ball of fur staring back up at me. I guess he was a Pomeranian. I couldn't see how Thunderball was much of an assistance dog, and he didn't have the little assistance dog vest on either. "He is absolutely a doll."

  "He is a she," Spencer said "And I know she doesn't look like your typical assistance dog, but believe me, I need her services."

  The hotel usually didn't allow dogs, but we did allow assistance dogs. "All I need is a credit card."

  He handed me his black American Express, which usually has a bazillion dollar limit. For someone so young, how did he have a black American Express card? I swiped it into the computer and handed it back to him. He did something that caught me completely off guard. He grabbed my hand and held it for a second as he took his card back. I fell down the well hole again there for a second, and it took me another second to recover. Was the AC not working? I could feel the blood rush to my face, and I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my chest. "Your room is on the eighteenth floor facing downtown. The elevators are around the corner to the left."

  "Thank you very much. When do you get off? I would love to grab a drink with you. I'm here for a procedure and don't know anyone in the city."

  "My shift ends at 8. We could meet in the lobby bar if that works."

  "Perfect. I will see you then."

  I couldn't take my eyes off of him as he walked away and rounded the corner. If first impressions are correct then I was in for a wonderful evening.

  "Girl, get your chin off the counter. You're starting to get drool everywhere," Sheila said.

  "Was it that obvious?"

  "If it went on any longer, I was getting ready to grab the fire hose and spray you down. You're in heat," she said.

  "It's been a while since I've had that instant connection with anyone."

  "What about your web cam friend, Leatherman?" she asked.

  "I haven't heard anything yet. I hate lying to everyone about having a husband. If they're looking for someone to date, I'm not even available in their eyes. All I am is a piece of meat on the screen."

  "Well maybe Leatherman just needs another show from you to pull him out of his shell."

  "I was planning on doing another one tomorrow. It’s easy money and I don't have to bother everyone else for help. I know it is a drag, pun intended, helping me out all the time, and I really appreciate your help."

  "Baby doll, you know I got you," she said. "Now is that a stapler in your pocket or are you happy to see me?"

  I didn't realize I was getting a chubby talking about Leatherman, whom I had never even met. I guess the fantasy of the Internet works both ways. I focused on the rest of my shift, and the rest of the time just flew by. I managed to slip away to the back to brush my teeth so that I had fresh breath for my drink date and took off the tie and jacket. I wished I had had another shirt to change into since the hotel shirts made me look more formal than I was hoping to be this evening, and I didn't have time to run down the block and change and get back here on time.

  I walked across the lobby and entered the bar and looked around. It was very atmospheric in here, but I was able to see Spencer sitting at a side booth with Thunderball patiently sitting next to him. I saw his face brighten as he saw me wave. We locked eyes as I worked my way through the room. Unfortunately, I didn't see the backpack on the floor behind table five. Next thing I knew, I was face-planted on the floor. It all took place in slow motion. Spencer and Thunderball raced over to help me up.

  "Are you alright?" he asked as he took my arm to lift me up.

  "Nothing damaged here except my ego," I said. Here I thought I was being Rico Suave and next I know I'm Lindsay Lohan.”

  "Don't worry," he said. "I do it all the time. Feel this." He took my hand and ran it through his thick, brown hair. "Did you feel it?"

  "Feel what?"

  "The bump on my head. I fell and wacked myself pretty good a couple of weeks ago, and the bump has been going down very slowly."

  His hair was so soft and smelled incredible. I grabbed a seat and the cocktail waitress came over and took my order. Spencer already had a martini in front of him, and I ordered my usual screwdriver.

  "Before your drink gets here, I want to answer the questions I know you are dying to ask," he said. "My favorite color is purple. When I was younger, I had a Barney fixation that went on for way too long. I like most music, but I prefer a diva star, so my all time favorite is Madonna. No one compares to her. My favorite food is Spaghettios. I could eat them morning, noon and night. I am a boxer kind of guy. I don't like the boys to free float, but I also don't like them pressed up against me all day. I think that covers the basics. Did I miss anything?"

  I started laughing. None of the questions were in my head, and I was so caught off guard that I immediately dropped my guard and relaxed instantly. How do I top that?

  "Here goes nothing. Secretly in another life I was a pirate in the Caribbean. My name was Captain Blueballs, which also happens to be my favorite color. The first car I ever got to drive was a rusted-out AMC Pacer, which happened to belong to the neighbor up the street. The car’s nickname was the Guppy because it looked like a giant fishbowl. I bowl left-handed even though I am a natural right-hander, and as a child I almost impaled my own eye with a Jart, which eventually was removed from the market bec
ause that happened to several other children."

  "And here I thought you had a lot of skeletons in your closet," he said. "But you sound pretty normal to me."

  "Normal as the next person, but I'm sitting next to you so that must make me as normal as you."

  "Don't judge a book by its cover."

  "So what brings you to Atlanta and why do you need Thunderball?" I asked.

  "Let's start with Thunderball. Thunderball is my assistance dog because I suffer from seizures and tend to collapse a lot lately. She has a sixth sense about it and starts barking at me when she senses one coming on. The doctors think that right before I have a seizure, my scent changes, and she can detect the change and that sets off her alarm."

  "What is causing the seizures?"

  "That leads me to why I am here. The doctors don't know, so they sent me to a specialist at Emory Hospital to run some tests. I can't stay out much later because I have to be there early in the morning, but I didn't want to miss the opportunity to get to know you better, Tyler.”

  "That is extremely nice of you to say that. When you came up I thought you were gorgeous."

  "You flatter me," he said.

  "The one thing my momma taught me was that when someone pays you a compliment, accept it graciously and say thank you."

  "Thank you," he said. "There's more to me than just my looks. I'm extremely hung," and he paused only to continue, "Up on collecting celebrity autographs, but only the ones I can get in person. Not the ones you order off the web."

  "Who's the most famous celebrity you got to meet?" I asked.

  "Bette Midler. I went to Vegas for a convention, and just by sheer accident ran into her in the hotel lobby as she was heading to her show. All I could say was ‘“Miss Midler, I enjoy your music, movies, and your incredible talent.’” Then I pulled out a piece of paper and pen and asked for her autograph. She politely obliged and signed. It was a shock meeting her."

  "I've never met anyone famous yet, but one day it will happen. We get celebrities in here all the time with all the movie business in Atlanta now, but I'm never working when they come in. The other day Owen Wilson checked into the hotel. To live is to dream."

  "That is what the lotto is for," he said. "If you don't play you can never dream about what you would do with the money."

  "I know exactly what I would do with it," I said.

  "Do tell."

  "I would open up a gay bowling alley called Rainbow Lanes, which would have a drag bar and a piano bar."

  "And in which part would you work?"

  "I would be the talent scout looking for girls to perform in the drag bar. Of course, I would have to seek out talented go-go boys to dance in the cages that would be suspended from the ceiling."

  "You've really thought this out haven't you?"

  "Just wishful thinking."

  "Well my sweet Tyler, I need to go retire for the evening. Travelling wears me out lately. It has been a pleasure meeting you." He handed me a business card with his cell number on it. "I hope to see you again soon."

  "You know where I will be."

  "I will stop by because I would love to do this again."

  And with that, he got up, grabbed my face and gave me a goodnight kiss on the lips. He tasted like apple. "Sleep well." He and Thunderball trotted out of the bar.

  Was this really happening? Someone so nice and incredibly hot right in front of me? So why am I thinking of Leatherman?

  CHAPTER 40

  Another day, another show. I forgot I was asked to perform at a fundraiser not related to the competition, which meant no pressure. This was a group raising money for Aids Walk, and the people in charge of the show were extremely friendly, so I was looking forward to just doing my numbers with no responsibility for how the show went. It also gave me a great opportunity to push my "Smash" show.

  This was going to be a different crowd than the people I normally perform for and at a different bar, so I could do repeat numbers. I don't like to repeat numbers because I'm trying to entertain people, not bore them, and I don't want to get the reputation of being a one-number bitch.

  I packed up my shit and headed over to the club. Germaine was my escort for the evening because everyone else already had plans. I loved Germaine because this could truly be a girl's night.

  "I've got the last of the ‘Smash’ costumes finished," he said. "They look exquisite! I couldn't have hoped for better."

  "Even the final Marilyn dress?" I asked.

  "Yes, honey. You will be the belle of the ball. And when those people give you that standing ovation, just remember you earned it."

  "Let's not jump ahead of ourselves here. I just hope people show up for it. I know Chas has been working on promoting it as much as he can on social media, and I've been sending out tweets to drum up as much excitement as possible. It sucks that the club can't include us in their ads."

  "Why's that?"

  "Because if they promote one charity show in their ads, then they have to promote them all. It's just not feasible because they have to promote their regularly scheduled events and the special DJ's they keep bringing in. Chas has also emailed all the gay rags in town to put it on their calendars, which should help, and it is added to the calendar on Atlanta Street Rescue's page, so just hoping people will come."

  "They'll be there, darling. You and Miss Gigi have put so much energy into this that it will pay off. It reminds me of my time on the stage. The lights, the glitz, the glamour. Oh, I do miss those days. Remember what I told you. Once you get good, these girls are going to stab you in the back to bring you down."

  "You really think so?"

  "Hell yes, honey. They will talk nice to your face, but the next thing you know, these tired drag queens are dialing up their girlfriends on their cheap-ass cell phones and talking smack about you. It really hurts when you think these girls are looking out for your best interest when in reality all they care about is the coin and the attention."

  I realized I better change the subject or I was in for an hour lecture on the road to ruin. "How are you and Miss Gigi doing, just out of curiosity?"

  "We are doing very well. Miss Gigi is a very generous lover if I must say."

  "No, you mustn’t say that. Ewww. Now I'll have that image burned into my head all night."

  "Don't be a hater."

  "I'm not. A fine would have sufficed."

  "We are dong fine," he said and laughed. "Where is this show again?"

  "The Foxhole. You know the bar on the other side of the park."

  "Was that the one raided for illegal gambling or was that the one that got raided for drugs?"

  "Neither. This is the one that had the queen fall off the deck and break her leg a couple of weeks ago."

  "Are you sure this isn't the one that had the roach infestation and had to be shut down?" he asked.

  "No, that was the sushi restaurant that the health department finally shut down. Their score was so low that the health code display sheet had a negative number on it. Thank God I don't like sushi."

  "Me neither. If it smells like a dead pussy, it needs to get thrown back. I've tried it once and that was back in college so never ask me to try it again."

  "Was that before or after they invented electricity?"

  "Ha ha, young man. Didn't your mother ever tell you to respect your elders?'

  "Yes, sir. No more age jokes."

  We pulled up to the Foxhole and actually managed to get a parking space. The show started at 6:30, which was good because all the softball players came straight over here after they finished their games in the park. Hopefully there would be a lot of sweaty men here. I was feeling a little randy, and what people don't realize there is a lot of power in drag. You can do things that you would never do in your own life. I've learned that I can go up to any cute man and tell them I want my picture taken with them because I think they are hot. I then hand my phone to someone standing there to get the picture. I've never had a hot man refuse. They like the attent
ion as much as I do.

  I didn’t know many of the girls in this show. I set up my space next to Vanna, whom I had met at a couple of other shows. She had a great sense of energy about her when she performed which I was trying to get better at. No one wants to watch someone just stand there, and it is even worse when they don't know the words to the song. Come on girls, that is the number one rule of drag. Know your words. Peanut butter, watermelon does not cut it.

  Vanna was as friendly as ever, but the other girls were very cliquish. They were all very friendly together, paying each other a ton of compliments that were not deserved, in my opinion. I'm tired of these girls who wear the huge breast-plates and pad their asses for days. They look like a caricature to me. And the sad part is they don't know what to do with it. An over-the-top outfit is only going to get you so far, especially if you do not know what to do with it. I stood in the wings to watch some of them perform and all they did was stand there and wait for someone to come and tip them. What I've learned is that once your initial impression is over, you need to do something to keep the audience entertained. These girls thought they were being entertaining, but they were laying a big egg.

  Vanna was up before me. She was doing Blondie’s “One Way Or Another,” which I had thought about doing in the past, but I could never figure out how to make it work. Vanna had the right outfit, boots, hair, and face for this number. She got up there and she shook those real boobs of hers, and the audience lined up to tip her. I did watch her backstage as she was getting ready. To create the illusion of her cleavage, she squished her boy breast together while her husband put duct tape under it all to hold it in place. I had to ask if it hurt to take the tape off because I would think you would be pulling off some of your skin. She let me know that if you take a shower and let the water soak the tape, it would come off in a gentle pull. Good to know if I ever had enough man breast of my own to pinch together.

  It was my turn to perform. I always felt a little anxious as I got up the stairs onto the stage. I stood in the dark in the back while the hostess let the crowd know about the "Smash" show, which was great to hear. I could see the spotlight following the hostess back and forth as she entertained the crowd. She got back to the podium and I finally heard, "Please welcome to the stage, Desiree." I could see the spotlight immediately go to the center of the curtain waiting for my arrival.