“Come here lovely, I want to give you a kiss.”
These are the fatal words that everyone detests when visiting their grandma, but when hearing the same words come from the mouth of a grown half naked bloke in sparkly make-up, it becomes even worse.
Yet that was how I found myself on Sunday morning, surrounded by shy cross-dressing males trying to sink as much Dutch-courage as they could before leaving the safety and confines of 12 Bar.
However, as soon as Queenstown’s annual dragsters hit the streets the scared and shameful façade was over and they were loving their time in the spotlight, it was not just the ‘come here lovely’ call, but also the:
“You want a piece of this spunk”,
“Look at these tits”,
and the had to be said: “Does my ass look fat in this?”
I think being driven around the streets of Queenstown in drag did wonders for their womanly confidence, while being paraded towards the hysterical and equally excited public arena for the famous drag race.
But before these shameful events took place there was the always entertaining and icy-cold Bird Man as a part of the Day on the Bay.
People with all types of contraptions danced, pranced and acted their way from the top of Queenstown’s jetty as they launched themselves into the near freezing water.
There was smoking Shotover Jets, Swine Flu, booing at the Lindauer girls for their lack of commitment to a watery finish, and the crowd pleaser Barbie Girl, where bikini’s grabbed my attention like nothing else could, and a ripped male specimine entertained the ladies. What a crowd pleaser.
Now this group was by far the best. They had everything, from gigantic lipstick, to winged angels, a sound choreographed massacre, heaven’s gates and even a guy landing on his back in the water as he attempted the almighty back flip from the jetty.
Brilliant I tell you!
Then to top it all off there was the Lynch Mob orchestrating the high and thrilling sounds of Pink Floyd.
There was even the token guy who danced to the imaginary beat in his own head. He was that guy who everyone watched, commending his confidence while laughing at how stupid he looked.
Actually, in all seriousness I think I am related to that guy, which would explain my awkward social movements that people mistake for upright fitting.
Anyway, the band were amazing, the oldies loved it, and I am pretty sure the only reason people under 20 were there was to mac onto the other younguns. But that’s all good, I would have done the same if I knew how to mac.
That’s it for day three.
Scot, Visitor from Gore.