(NOTE: THIS IS ANOTHER "OLDIE" I NEVER POSTED!) You know how life is full of delightfully scatological metaphors -- poopy little pearls of wisdom worthy of little more than maybe a bumper sticker? Sayings like, “shit happens” and “the shit hit the fan” and “shit storm”? Well, I have learned that as long as these remain merely metaphors, one should indeed count themselves lucky. VERY LUCKY! I am back in Provincetown, selling my soul in $20 increments to tourists and circuit queens, and the phrase “shit storm” just became a reality for moi! Provincetown, or P-Town as it is often called (because it takes so darn long to say the full name?), is very laid back. A little too laid back if you ask me -- and I assume if you are reading this then, for all intents and purposes, you are essentially asking me, right? Perhaps the P stands for Procrastinate -- as in “Let’s take our sweet time dealing with and/or replacing the outdated plumbing in this vacation town filled to capacity with gluttonous Americans eating and drinking like there’s no tomorrow!” It’s possible, but I am pretty sure the P simply stands for “poop”! And no, I am not talking about some of the shitty drag that tries to pass for entertainment out here. I am talking about good old-fashioned, genuine, bona fide human feces.
Listen, you are dealing with a bitter, middle-aged (that is, if I am fortunate enough to live to 90!) drag queen who can cop an attitude when it’s time to do her world-famous makeup in a 4-star hotel suite. Can you imagine the huffing and puffing and eye-rolling that takes place when I have to do it in the bedroom of an outdated shack the locals lovingly refer to as “the crack house”? But you know what? I told myself this year I would not complain -- no mater what happened! I chose to be here again this summer, based on the obscene amount of money I raked in last year, and as such, I vowed to plaster a smile on my face no matter what! Little did I know that fake smile would quickly be replaced by a shit-eating grin. When you announce to God -- or Fate or Whatever -- that you are not going to get upset no matter what, I think He or It or Whatever takes that as a personal challenge. “Oh really!? How about I wake you up with the loud, geyser-like eruptions of the toilet in your bathroom? What if I had it literally explode, sending stomach-turning raw sewage flooding everywhere? Still smiling, bitch!?” What I just described is exactly what happened. Considering this to be an emergency, I quickly called my employers -- who also happen to be the owners of “Case de Crack”. I was told that the entire town was backed up and that first floor toilets all over Poop Town were overflowing. Relax. It’s not just your bathroom, Jackie. God, what a diva!
This bathroom, although just a toilet and a sink, was my saving grace! It was the reason I could get in and out of drag without having to climb up the rickety old, super steep stairs to the communal bathroom on the second floor -- the door of which always seems to be closed, signifying that one of my 3 (soon to be FOUR when the cook’s boyfriend arrives in a few days) housemates is inside, doing God knows what!
So, as an enlightened person who is striving to “go with the flow” and “not make waves” -- both very ironic phrases in light of the recent shit storm -- I must stand back and look for the lesson in all of this. And here is what I have come up with: If I can survive this, I can survive anything! The next time I am in a 4-star hotel suite with premium cable, a mini bar, coffee maker, spa robe, room service, free wi-fi, comfy King-sized bed, jacuzzi tub, pulsating massage shower and a nice clean toilet that does that feel the need to do an impromptu two-day impersonation of Reagan McNeil from The Exorcist (spitting up Satan’s stinky shit instead of mere pea soup) I shall look around and gratefully say, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”