“This will be my first gay experience!” Jonah told us excitedly.
On Wednesday, we left work early to watch the District’s Annual High Heel Drag Race, a one-minute sprint down a stretch of road off Dupont Circle. The entire scene felt ridiculously like Halloween at Ohio University (which makes it onto PubClub.com’s “Top Party Schools” solely for its town-wide holiday bash), only a little more adult — the drunk folks were mostly in suits, straight from their 9 to 5’s, or else they were in extreme drag.
Dozens of queens paraded down 17th — Condi Rice & Hillary Rodham Clinton both made somewhat masculine appearances (not so far from the truth, I suppose), as did the real-life Mayor Adrian Fenty, sporting a snazzy black fedora & waving to the crowd. Politicians weren’t the only ones in attendance: glittery Flinstones characters & a dozen Renaissance ladies were there, as were the Washington Monument & a slice of grapefruit. The costumes ranged from typical drag (dresses, wigs & boas) to the outrageous (hair as high as my torso is long, etcetera).
I stuck around for pictures, & the Latina queen I first approached was more than happy to oblige. Then the Fanta girls passed, chanting, “Fanta’s sweet and oh-so-fizzy, but what you need is something jizzy!” I requested a shot, but only Lemon took notice, screaming for Strawberry, Orange & Grape to return to her so we could take a full group photo. “They love this!” she insisted.
Heyyyy, Miss Lemon: I do, too.