Author’s note: Perhaps I’ve become rusty in the realm of interviewing subjects, but this was just plain traumatic all around. Nonetheless, here’s my interview with the upstart drag queen (female impersonator) Miss Fallopiana Fontaine Fabrege.
JP: So how are you doing, Miss Fabrege?
FF: I’m good… all good. Thank you very much.
JP: I’m great… um, thanks for asking….
FF: Well, now to be truthful, I do have a little of gas. (Fontaine then lifted her leg like a gymnast far past her prime and attempting to contort her ample frame, giggled like a drunk frat boy and smiled. It kind of sounded like a beaver stuck in a mouse trap… and it did not sound pleased to be there.)
JP: Was that necessary?
FF: Would you rather it come up outta my mouth?
JP: So what first endeared you to the art of dressing and performing in drag?
FF: I was all about playing in my momma’s clothes and makeup and so forth when I was a child. In fact, I would take my G.I. Joe figures and make fabulous outfits for them out of cereal boxes and Sweet Tarts and stuff.
JP: I see… and how did your friends take to your hobby?
FF: Mostly they’d just kick my ass and laugh about it. Anyhow… I also liked to take My Little Ponies and do their makeup with Magic Markers, then G.I. Joe and his special friends could ride them around like they were in a big ole parade! My momma wouldn’t let me outside to play for whatever reason, so I had to do it in my bedroom, ya know.
JP: So what was your debut like? What song did you perform?
FF: I chose “You Oughta Know” because Alanis Morissette sounded so angry in that song, like her boobs had done got saggy or something like an old lady. Anyhow, I had props and everything - I told this crack-headed boy who liked to hang out in the alley behind the bar that I wanted him to be in my show and that I would buy him a drink if he did it. (Fontaine then laughed so hard, some spittle ran down her double-chin and she fell into the floor… where she continued the interview.)
Well, he didn’t know what he was getting into because I strapped him to a chair on that stage with some duct tape and proceeded to beat him silly with one of my house shoes all through that song. It was pretty funny… except for when I busted his lip and he cried a little bit. But I just call stuff like that my ‘creative license.’ It was so creative though that he filed assault charges against me after the performance. But what, do you really think there’s a listing for ‘Fallopiana’ in the phone book? Those cops couldn’t find me. Sometimes I can’t even find myself. The only thing that would have made it perfect would have been if they had let me use my cattle prod like a baton, ya know, like those majorette girls in the marching band. But there was something about a fire code or some such shit….
JP: So what did you wear? Did those years accessorizing G.I. Joe and My Little Pony come in handy?
FF: Indeed they did. I wore a very special black leather ensemble, head to toe… I was fierce like a dancing chinchilla in heat!
JP: Seems a little expensive for a first-time performer, don’t you think?
FF: Actually, it was just some black trash bags that I had taped together… but when people are drunk as hell and it’s dark, they really can’t tell the difference. I also tricked it out in some plastic shiny gems I stole off my niece’s Little Miss Possum Trot Pageant outfit. She’s still angry about that too… she put a ferret turd in my stocking for Christmas, which I might add, I did not appreciate.
JP: So the outfit worked out well?
FF: Yes, for the most part… except right before I went on stage, one of the smartass little sissy bartenders at that place tried to empty an ash tray down my back, thinking I was a garbage can. Didn’t appreciate that either, just so you know.
JP: Is performing in drag your day job?
FF: You’re pretty stupid. I never get more than a few dollars in tips when I perform… well, plus some quarters people like to throw at my head like I‘m a wishing well or something like that. During the day I work at the 7-11, where I am in charge of chasing away the stray cats and turning the hot dogs in the big warmer thingie. Sometimes my manager will also have me taste test the snacks that are past the expiration date because we don’t want folks getting sick up in our store.
JP: Where do you see yourself ten years from now as a performer?
FF: Rehab.
JP: No, I mean, how are you trying to evolve as a drag artist?
FF: Honey, the Bible does not agree much with evolution. I gotta keep righteous and whatnot, ya know? And I damn sure ain’t related to some poo-throwing monkey. That just ain’t right.
JP: Nevermind.
FF: Alrighty then!
JP: Thank you, Miss Fabrege, for offering us such an enlightening and informative glimpse into the life of a drag queen. Miss Fabrege?
(She had passed out behind the chair, muttering something about Wild Irish Rose.)
About the author: Joseph O. Patton is the editor-in-chief and founder of the Capital City Free Press.
Copyright © Capital City Free Press
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
rotflmao!! keep righteous!!
ReplyDelete-- and for future knowledge, my littlee brother's G.I.Joes looked FABULOUS in magic marker makeup!! But I also had Barbies tu-tu's and accessories, so I was packin' style, yo. :)
Wild Irish Rose is like cotton candy in your mouth. Any self respecting lady knows this. That would be me.
ReplyDelete