Party time! We're just getting started here, though. The next chapter will be "full tilt boogie" at Joie DiVivre. But the "morning after" gag gifts and teasing had to come first, right? You know the girls had to give Kendall a little good natured "grief," right? Janet's song is my little wink in that direction. And oh my God, that car down there at the bottom--saw it auctioned off on TV a few years ago and just wept with envy. I may never have it, but my "make believe" family can. Enjoy!
Watching that gag gift backfire big time was funny as hell. I still crack up just thinking about it.
We were walking into the big house to join the girls for breakfast when Mike puts up "stop" hands and says, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Before you sit down--here!"
And she hands Kendall this big, beautifully wrapped box. With this little glint in her eyes.
And we can feel everybody in the kitchen—Joie and the girls—holding their breath, just dying to see Kendall's reaction.
So Kendall looks at me. And I shrug and say, "Just humor them."
So she heads over to the little appliance island, carefully removes the ribbon and wrapping paper, opens the big box...and comes up with one of those little rubber donut cushion things they give people after they get operated on for hemorrhoids. I think they give them to women after they have babies, too.
And just as the girls are about to bust a gut, Kendall gasps and says, "Oh my God, my prayers have been answered! Cause he's like...well...I guess you guys know, right?"
And she shows it to me all excited like it was the ring I hadn't bought her yet. With the girls just standing there looking all confused.
And then she goes over, plops the donut down on a chair at the table and sits her little butt down on it with this little sigh of relief, as if she wanted to show them how grateful she was for their "thoughtfulness."
And Joie, who's already sitting at the table, gives this little smirky smile and goes, "Well. Maybe the next one will have the desired effect..."
And that's when we finally had the laugh they'd been hoping for. Though the joke was on them, not Kendall.
So, I said, "Okay, c'mon! Lay it on me."
And Cat just shoved it at me and said, "Here! Just get it over with."
Mine was a back brace. And I went, "Hardy, har, har."
So then Joie slid me a littler box. A shiny blue jewelry box that I recognized right off. So I opened it and took out a very swanky looking business card.
"Breakfast at Tiffany," Joie aid. "I've sent a lot of business to Patrice. She's a sweetie pie."
"So..."
"You call, you make an appointment, you get a continental breakfast, VIP treatment and the rings of your choice. You can even design them. Which is of course the only way to go."
"Wait—you guys aren't paying for that, right?" I said.
"Oh, hell no, honey! The rings are on you! The swag's all me."
I went over and kissed her. And she said, "She gets the joy ride, I get a peck on the cheek! Life is just not fair."
That really got a laugh. And Kendall got up and kissed Joie, too.
And said, "You guys are so sweet."
"Sit that lil' sore (change for Wattpad) butt back down over there," Aisha said. "I'm still mad at both o' you."
"No, you're not," I said, going over to hug her from behind.
"Boy, you better stop," she said.
I kissed her on the neck anyway and said, "What are you mad about?"
And I think she felt the new "me." I swear. She looked back at me to check, and then the part of her that couldn't help but feel me and be happy for me gave me this wonderful smile.
And she said, "When you gon' do it right? And where you gon' do it?"
"Well, you tell me. I'm listening."
"Reverend say he want you to come over there'n' talk to him about it."
I lit up then, and said, "Oh, man—can we have the choir and everything? That'd be soooo dope!"
Kendall sighed and said, "But I'm Catholic, though. I mean, I hate to be a buzzkill..."
"How Catholic?" Joie asked her.
"Well, not the, like, really strict, traditional Catholic that Ellen's family was. I mean, they're those really weird ones who make it feel like a cult, almost. But I believe it really is the church that Jesus created. And I like Jesus a lot. So...I just...I'd like to do it our way. But it just...well, he'd have to be baptized and...it takes a while..."
I could see what she was really thinking. That there wouldn't be time.
So I went over to sit by her and shrugged and said, "We'll work it out."
"And our choirs suck. The songs just sound all sad."
"Sweetie, don't worry," Joie said. "Because that's my job--do I hear any objections?"
She said it giving me this stare that told me I'd better hold my peace for sure.
So I said, "All in favor, raise your hand!"
And, of course, everyone threw a hand up. Kendall raised up both hands and waved them around.
So Joie slapped her hands down on the table, stood up and said, "My work here is done! Onward to the Xtravaganza—4 p.m., remember? And pray that that suit fits you because you weren't here for the fitting I'd scheduled. The other stuff I don't care about, but you have to sell that suit!"
"Have I ever not sold a suit?"
She gave me a wink and said, "That's my bae! Ladies? Later!"
And off she went, grabbing a big apple on her way past the appliance island fruit basket.
Mike came over, poked my chest and told me, "She's going to switch it up tonight, so watch it."
I just gave her a little smile and said, "Oh, she's gonna Bowie down on us, huh? Good to know."
"Yep. The sickest Tom Ford I have ever seen in my life."
"You don't think I can handle it?"
Cat smiled and said, "This is going to be good."
"Oh, c'mon, no contest," I said. "Cause she can bump—"
"--but she cain't grind," Aisha said, joining me in a little "demonstration."
And Kendall gaped and said, "Oooo! Do that again!"
"Haven't you had enough yet?" Cat teased her.
Just as Rick strolled in and asked, "How'd she take it?"
Because of course he was in on the jokes.
So Mike smirked and said, "She thanked us for it."
And Rick said looked at Kendall and said, "Good for you! Stand your ground, girl."
And then to me he said, "And hubby, you and I have a lot of talkin' to do. We've got a possible plea bargain for that Danny kid—"
"Really?"
"Meeting tomorrow at 10, no matter how hungover. Got it?"
"Where?"
"Just be ready. The car'll be here at 9:30-ish."
"Will Wyatt be there?"
"Where has she been, anyway?" Mike asked.
"Some weird Christmas issue," Rick said. "You ask. It didn't make sense to me."
"Did you ask her to come to the thing tonight?" I asked him.
"She was kinda vague about that. But it's for charity, so maybe. I couldn't tell. It's just...weird. But the big man's going to be there, though! That's the serious news."
The girls all gasped so I knew this was a really big deal.
And Cat said, "DeVilliers?" So reverently you'd think the guy was God or something.
"Yup! He wants to see that guy."
He pointed to me, when he said that.
And I startled and said, "Me?"
"He has an idea. Several ideas. Be careful, kiddo, cause he's into all that...protégé stuff. You hear what I'm not sayin' right?"
"Well, I'm a married man," I said, giving him a wink.
"Yeah, that freaked him out a little bit. But then he just laughed and said, 'I think we can work with that, actually.'"
"Do the accent, though," Mike said.
"No one can do that accent. The dude makes me wish I was gay."
"Whoa, that's dangerous," I said.
"You'll see. They should just have it so that when you Google 'suave' a picture of JJ pops up. He's fuckin' ridiculous!"
He grabbed a gigantic strawberry out of a bowlful and dipped it in some Nutella they'd scooped into littler bowls for everybody to use.
And Mike stole the strawberry from him and said, "Your suit's amazing, too."
"It's pretty bomb, yeah. She went all out this year."
"Well, come on let's go over some stuff," Aisha said. "'specially Bae, 'cause he been so busy tryin'a git married 'e ain't bust a move yet!"
I grabbed the back brace and said, "I think I'm gonna need this..."
And Kendall gave me the wide eyes again. So I winked and hauled her up out of the chair.
And she leapt up on my back as if to prove I could handle it. My little monkey woman, honest to God.
So, the Xtravaganza. Let me explain just a little bit before we go there.
Like I said, it's called the "Xmas Xtravaganza" and it is a very big deal in Tucson. Joie started it in the 90s, as a charity for the homeless. Not just gay ones, all of them.
But the person it's dedicated to, Ginger Snatch (I kid you not—she had flaming red hair, BTW), was a trans woman who was murdered—not here. Happened in Texas, actually. They found her by the side of a road not far from a truck stop she'd gassed up in.
So somebody saw, followed and killed her, and then dumped her out there to send a message.
But the message we received from it wasn't the one he was hoping for. Woke us up. Woke the whole city.
Cause she was one of Joie's "girls," and also a really well known local activist and all around amazing human being. One of those folks who found a lot of important answers to important questions about life and wanted to help other people get there, too.
I mean, she was a big fat drag queen and loved it. Literally fat, like almost 300 pounds. And the loud kind that some people don't like anymore. And she did not give a fuck.
She would throw on a big red wig, cram that big butt into some gold jeggings, squeeze those fat rolls into some kind of spangly tank top, slip on some flip flops with big old gaudy flowers on them and go grocery shopping like that. I lived to go with her on one of her "outings." And she loved to take hold of my arm and play like I was her "baby boyfriend."
People in the store would start out staring and snorting and then end up asking her what time her show started and where to park and how did she do her nails like that? I think they mostly forgot I was even there. She was spectacular, Ging. (That's like "gin" with a j at the end.)
What she did give a fuck about was other gay people who were scared to strut their stuff. Especially young ones. So she created all kinds of activities and youth centers for runaways and kids who just didn't fit in anywhere.
Joie's club became a sort of after school gathering place, too. Kids could come and hang out and learn from the drag queens or even take real community college courses later on. And they could "graduate" into the bar, ball or pageant scenes more easily that way, too. Lots of connects.
They never arrested anybody for the murder. And it was a really sick one. She was just butchered. Rage killing, the cops said. Somebody who either really hated gays or really hated being gay, maybe—someone who hated themselves, you know? Some cowboy who couldn't handle the truth.
Joie was so upset we weren't sure she'd survive. But she threw this over the top "Gingapalooza" thing, and made it a charity "ball" that the whole community was invited to buy tickets to. I'm not sure how the designers got involved exactly, but I know they both had been friends with some of the newest ones before they got famous.
So all these incredible clothes arrived for the auction. And then all these rich people you see in magazines called asking to come and the press came with them.
And the next year, all these other people in the fashion business and the music business and the movie business started to donate and participate. Which brought out even more rich people and socialites and whatnot, too.
All that took it sort of out of the "street" realm, but Joie decided it was okay to go all bourgie once a year. It raised ridiculous amounts of money and it was fun to watch the swanky people try to work the pole and twerk and stuff. I'm not kidding, it's hilarious. I think it's their favorite Christmas party.
In fact, they fight over VIP invitations. It's a lottery thing, because there's only so much room in Joie DiVivre and she refuses to move it to some place bigger. The private participants' brunch is at Rick's club, but everything else happens at JDV.
So Joie has the after school kids do a little drawing at a big party a few months before, and it's like Oscar time, the way people wait to see if that Christmas ornament invitation shows up. You have to bring your ornament with you, to get into the VIP balcony.
And those people are the ones who usually bid on the suits and stuff. Anyone can, but you're not going to beat some movie mogul, right?
That part happens sort of toward the end. There's this serious fashion show, but you have to perform, not just strut down the runway. And sometimes you don't know what music she's going to play for you—that's to even the field, so you can't practice too much.
You're also not allowed to schmooze. Performers stay in their own area and can't go out and campaign or anything. You can be in the show and stuff, but you can't go out and socialize.
I win a lot. I mean, it's not a competition, but I get mad bids. She sent me out there years ago, when I was still a little snot nosed kid. I didn't know what else to do so I just sort of B-Boy'd down the runway and they loved it. So they wanted to see the "little one" every year.
Which means they've seen me grow up, these people. Even some people who don't come have seen me in magazines that cover the thing. It gets a lot of coverage. Even in Vanity Fair and Town and Country and things like that. There's always some Kardashian or other somewhere—makes me glad I can't schmooze. I hate that shit.
And I'm not sure Kendall and Kylie and Brian were even close to ready for how the crowd reacted to us pulling up for "call time." That's when you could see all the performers even if you didn't have a ticket.
They knew our car, of course, too. Rick always drove the black and silver 1947 Bentley that Duke won for Aisha at the Barrett Jackson auction a few years ago. So Old Hollywood, right? They take it right back to the warehouse, once they drop us off. No way it stays in the lot. It's a work of art. Deco, to be exact.
So even early in the afternoon people were all crowded around the club. Cops were there to help, though. And when they flung open the car door, I grabbed Kendall's hand and she grabbed Kylie and we made a mad dash for the back door of the club.
And once we got inside, Kylie gaped said, "Who are you, for Chrissake? What world is this we are in right now?"
And gave her a wink and said, "Ours! How do you like it so far?"
And this really beautiful guy slipped past us—one of the waiters, wearing just some designer boxers and a bow tie and carrying a tray full of champagne flutes.
And Kylie said, "Can I have one of those?"
"Sure! I'll get you a drink."
"No, what's carrying the drinks."
"Not sure you can have one of those, but you can have one of these," I said, handing her one of the silver "swag bags" everyone gets when they come in. I got Kendall one, too.
And one look at the really fancy FitBit and glitzy headphones at the top of the heap stunned them silent and senseless.
So did the walking silver statue—male--who came up, grabbed a clip board and said, "Is this that hussy you ran off with?"
I rolled my eyes and said, "Her name is Kendall, bitch."
And he stuck out his hand the way a queen would, for Kendall to kiss the back of it. Even though he was clearly a big man who worked out fiercely every day. Six packed and spray-painted silver to match the swag bags he'd be handing out as we arrived.
That's what I thought he was painted for, anyway. With this crowd, you could never tell what they were playing like.
Kendall kissed the hand and he winked at her and said, "Why you wanna break our hearts like that, girl?"
And Kendall clasped her hands together all dramatic like she was going to drop to her knees or something and said, "God, I'm sorry! I just couldn't help myself! Will you ever forgive me?"
And D'Wayne—yep, that's his real name—laughed and said, "Bitch, get on away from me!"
But he was laughing. So she'd passed the first "test" of the evening.
Kylie looked around as we entered the madness that was "backstage before the show" and said, "I must remember every second of this..."
"Believe me you will," I told her.
Just as all these raving queens came rushing up to kiss and coddle and carry me off to wherever they wanted me to be. And D'Wayne swooped my wife and her sister away to wherever they were supposed to be.
Show time!