Published: 2 Jan 2020
It was during the Summer of ’68 that I saw my first drag show and realized that some of the performers were actually singing the songs in their own voices, they were not just lip syncing to a record while up on stage dressed in drag. I was underage back then, in fact I had just graduated from high school in a town eighteen miles from Springfield. My seventeenth birthday was not until the end of September.
I had been gifted with a week-long vacation in Boston as one of my graduation presents and being a responsible teenager who had worked after school and on weekends for the last two years of school my parents reluctantly allowed this solo trip of mine. I had purchased a 1956 Chevy the week after school was out for good as I would need transportation back and forth to the college I had chosen from the five I had received acceptance letters from, the University of Denver, in Denver Colorado, a place no one in my family had ever been and about as far from them as I could get, was the one I had chosen. You see, the year before I had finally admitted to myself that I was gay, and I wanted to be as far away from my small home town as I could be before I actually tried acting on those new feelings I had developed for other males. An older but wiser relative had told me at my graduation party to never shit in my own backyard, and I never intended to do so.
So, once my car was registered and insured I was off to Boston for my solitary week away from my large family. I took the turnpike East for about an hour and a half and parked my car in the lot under the Boston Public Garden, you know, the place with the huge pond and the swan boats. I paid for a week of parking and was told to keep the receipt. It was a Friday afternoon. I took my borrowed suitcase with me and began to walk toward the Parker House Hotel near the other end of the Garden and saw a newsstand about a block before the hotel. There were all kinds of flyers for attractions and businesses on display in a rack and I saw one for the Midtown Motor Inn that was advertising a Summer special of $80.00 dollars for a week there and I knew it was a lot cheaper than the Parker House was charging, a whole lot. I looked at the address and although it was too far to walk to from downtown, it was on the trolley line, so I went to the payphone nearest the newsstand and called the Inn and made a reservation. They had a room for me for a week and I then hopped on the trolley a block or so away and took it to the Inn.
The neighborhood was not the best, but it was a nice motel and I felt comfortable there. I spent my days roaming the downtown streets, eating sandwiches in the Garden, shopping in Jordan Marsh’s basements and also Filenes’ sub basements where there were real bargains. I visited a lot of historic sites and then a few days before I was to leave for home one afternoon, I wandered into a place called the Napoleon Room. I naively thought it was another historic site and then realized it was a “Gentleman’s Club” for gay gentlemen, mostly workers in the neighborhood. Every guy had suits or business attire on. A store clerk from Jordan Marsh who had waited on me that week approached me and guided me to a booth and bought me a soda and we talked for about two hours. He wasn’t trying to pick me up or anything, he was talking to a kid from the sticks who was clearly out of his element and he was just lonely himself and was filling time until his boyfriend got out of work.
Sam and his boyfriend took me to The Other Side that evening after we had left The Napoleon Room. They knew by now that I was underage, but they were determined to show me some gay nightlife. They had a friend who worked at this other bar and they could sneak me in. It was show night at the bar. They told me that guys dressed up as women and lip synced to female singer’s records and there was a prize for the best one. Best of all, they told me, was the drag that MC’d the show was going to be Sylvia Sydney, a big drag with a gutter mouth who was just outlandish, I had to see her.
Sam and his boyfriend Dave were nice guys and they too stuck with sodas and protected me from some guys I really wasn’t ready to deal with myself at that time. We had a good table near the front of the stage, but in a shadowy corner so I wouldn’t be so obvious to this older crowd. Sylvia came out and I couldn’t believe it, she had a toilet seat around her neck !! She talked a lot like Don Rickles and was just as off color as I thought he might be in a live show in Las Vegas. It was funny and irreverent, and I think she had me blushing a hundred times before the contest actually started.
I guess I began to sing softly along with the recordings as the six contestants performed that night and at one point Sam and Dave were grooving along as I did and just before the last contestant was to begin I felt this big hand on my shoulder, and when I looked down at it , it appeared to be the biggest woman’s hand I had ever seen. It had false nails on it like talons on a bird of prey and they were painted bright red. Sam and Dave fell silent as Sylvia leaned down to whisper in my ear, “You’re too young to be in here, but you sing like an angel and you’re really cute, so if you want to see the end of the show, and not get you and your friends thrown out, come with me for ten minutes.
I was scared shitless, but worried about having created a problem for Sam and Dave so I stood and told them I’d be right back and followed Sylvia through to the back of the showroom to the dressing rooms. I tried to tell her I was new to all this and that I didn’t even know how to have sex yet, but she told me she had something else in mind. When we got to her dressing room, she told me to sit as she rummaged in a box under her makeup station and came over to me with a jet-black short wig and wiggled it down on my head and then looked at me. In her gravelly voice she then told me what she had in mind. She would dress me and use a little makeup on me, and I would go out and sing and when I won, I would split the prize money with her. She wanted half, but I negotiated a third for her and she agreed.
I had foundation and some powder and lipstick put on me and a skinny metallic dress put on my then slight frame and she put two big bath sponges in the space where boobs would be and wouldn’t you know it, we wore the same sized shoes. She then asked me what song I knew all the words to and it had to be one I could put my heart and soul into as I sang without a record. I told her I knew ”Where Is Love” from the musical Oliver. She seemed surprised, until I told her I had auditioned for one of the back up positions for the lead in Oliver a few years ago and it was a song I often sang while I drove around in my car and in my parent’s car before I bought my own.
Sylvia told me we had to get up front and get me entered in the contest so out front we went and when the performer on stage was finished Sylvia introduced me as Olive. I grabbed a stool from the side of the little stage and perched on the edge and started singing. I was a tiny bit scratchy at the first line, but hit my stride by the second and continued on beseeching from the crowd where love could be found. There was a moment of silence when I had finished and I thought I must have really stunk, but the entire room of over two hundred were soon on their feet, clapping and hooting and hollering and there were quite a few tear streaked faces out there, including Sylvia when she came and escorted me back to the table where Sam and David were still standing and clapping and they drew me into a three way hug.
About forty-five minutes later Sylvia announced the third-place winner and then the second-place winner, and then she held her hand out to me as she announced that I was the first place winner of fifteen hundred dollars. Sylvia got her five hundred and she even let Sam and David come back to her dressing room with me to get me out of drag. Sam thought it would be a good idea to get me out of the club after the transformation so as to not draw attention to my age so Sylvia showed us a rear exit, but not before she made me give her my name and a way for her to contact me, she thought she had an idea how I could make extra money during my school years. David and Sam volunteered to be my go-bet weens as far as contacts between Sylvia and me and once phone numbers were exchanged, we three left, after thanking Sylvia for a remarkable evening.
Once out on the street and my adrenaline level had leveled off, I realized just how hungry I was, and I was sure my companions were as well and I suggested a bite to eat and we three walked a few blocks to the nearest Copper Kettle Restaurant where I treated. It was an emotional goodbye when the guys dropped me off at the motel later and I just about had time to use the bathroom for a quick shower before crashing. I slept for ten hours and woke refreshed and unsure of how to spend the last day of my stay in Boston, and not coming up with something to do I hadn’t done already (except sex), I decided to leave a day early. I packed up and checked out and then took the trolley back downtown with my suitcase and retrieved my car from the parking lot and hit the turnpike back home.
I was able to get a part time job at the local general store for the rest of June and July and I used my spare time getting ready to pack my stuff I would be taking with me to college in Colorado. Now that I had some extra money, I would leave the first week of August and give myself an extra week or so before freshman orientation started the last week of August in Denver.
Yes, Sam and Dave and I kept in touch at least once a week and the week after the 4th of July they reported that Sylvia had been in touch and wanted me to call her. I did and she explained that because of my age I couldn’t perform in the gay bars, but I could sing at private gatherings, and she had a friend who ran a bunch of them in Colorado and nearby states. She told me that I would be paid at least five hundred a show, and of course there were the tips that the performers would receive from those who attended these gatherings. Sylvia had arranged with her friend to not only start using me in the shows, but that someone would be assigned to be with me at all times when I was in the venues, I would be chaperoned at all times while with the other performers at the clubs we were to perform in.
My first appearance with the rest of the performers was the weekend before classes started. Except for some amateurish make-up and a disheveled wig I thought it went well. But the manager of the troupe, Silvia’s friend, didn’t. As I was in the backstage restroom, I could hear him bitching out the other performers in the dressing room we were all using. He was telling them they were all a bunch of bitches for letting me go out there, representing the whole show, looking like some sort of Raggedy Ann doll and not only that, I had earned the most applause and the highest amount of tips from the customers that night. And, if I heard right, he actually told them I was less than half their age and he expected them to treat me better than they had that night.
I was mortified to say the least. I had no idea that I had looked comical out on stage, or that the others had deliberately let me go out there like that. I had taken their indifference to me as they were the pros and they all had their own prep to do. I waited until almost all of them were out of the dressing room. I spent that time in the bathroom washing myself as best I could and drying off with paper towels. When I could no longer hear any of them in the dressing room across the hall I ran in there, got into my street clothes, grabbing my stuff and putting it into my small valise and took that in hand and ran out through the club and out to the street, not taking the time to talk to anyone.
Once out on the street I saw a cab at the nearest corner, and I ran to it and asked the cabbie to take me to the bus station. We were in Colorado Springs, and I was heading back to Denver right now. I was humiliated and felt like I didn’t belong, and I was going to retreat to my campus in Denver. The cab let me out at the bus station, and I paid him and then took my suitcase and went inside to grab a seat on the next bus up to Denver, about a one and a half hour trip up route 25 from where I was now. I bought my ticket at the counter and the clerk informed me it would only be about twenty minutes before I could board the bus. I found a seat and waited impatiently until I heard the boarding announcement for my bus and went out to the line of buses waiting for passengers and found the right one and found a seat near the back, pulled out one of my text books and settled in, trying to just forget tonight’s experience.
I was back in my dorm room and wondering how I was supposed to pay for my single room for the next semester and figured that I would only need another five hundred dollars to be able to do it, and between now, late August, and when I would have to pay for the single room, I should be able to earn that much at just about any job I took. Everything else, tuition, books, meals, were all covered already. Yes, it would have been nice to have the money from a performing job, but if I watched it, and didn’t overspend, I thought I could make it.
The next morning, I received a call from Sylvia. She was worried about me. She had gotten a call from her friend, telling her how I had disappeared after the show last night and that all my stuff was gone from the dressing room, and I hadn’t even picked up my pay and tips from him. I began to tell her about what I had overheard and that I knew I wasn’t wanted by the other performers, so I cleared out and took a Greyhound back to campus.
Sylvia told me she was sorry about what had happened, that she thought she had told her friend that I had no experience getting in drag, except what she had done for me in Boston, but there was no denying it, there were some real insecure bitches in that group of performers and if I was patient she would find me a classier troupe to perform with. In the meantime, I was owed some money from last night’s show and she would see to it that I received it before the week was out. She reiterated that I was gifted, that I had a wonderful voice and I was just the cutest thing in or out of drag and she would find me a spot where I could earn the money I would need to pay for next year’s tuition.
On Friday in the mail was a check for seven hundred dollars from the touring company, five hundred for the show and two hundred for the tips I hadn’t picked up. I now knew I’d have the private single dorm room for the next semester. That evening Sylvia called again, telling me she had arranged for an audition for me with another troupe. She told me that this was a troupe she had performed with before taking up her current gig in Boston where she had settled down. She explained I was to show up about an hour early because another old friend was going to do my hair and make up for me and that I would get to perform two numbers for them. She was really excited about this chance for me, because there would be first class travel for me to get from the campus to wherever they were performing at the time, either a private car would be sent for me, or I would take a plane out to wherever they were and after the last show I would be flown back to school.
These bookings would allow me to attend classes during the week, unless it was vacation or a school break time, then I would stay with the troupe in whatever hotel they were staying in, but I would have my own room, since I was still considered underaged. I thanked her profusely for this and she laughed and told me to be real good because she owned a small part of this show and we would both earn a lot of money out of these bookings. She then told me when and where the audition was to be held and I at first balked at the idea of performing here in Denver, but I was told it was a private audition in the ballroom of a local hotel and it would just be me and her friend and the two guys who ran the show.
The audition was set up for that Sunday afternoon.
I tried out a few favorites that night and Saturday and decided on Where Is Love again and Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend. On the Diamonds number I could do a pretty good Carol Channing impression and for the
Brian was a former “showgirl” who had retired and had opened his own hairdressing salon here in the mile-high city. While talking to him as he fussed with my head (makeup and wig styling) we kind of formed a bond and he turned me to a mirror and even I almost didn’t recognize myself. The outfit he had picked for me needed little adjustments here and there, but these were accomplished with some safety pins. He teased me about how big my feet were, but then winked at me and I just smiled and nodded.
He sat with me as I warmed up my voice and then he took me from the ballroom ladies’ room out into the big room with only three chairs facing the small stage at the end of the room. I was introduced to the two men who ran the show and presented a tape to the one who said he’d take care of the music. I walked to the center of the stage, but then grabbed a stool to put behind me for the second number, but for the first number, Diamonds, I would work the front of the stage.
Everything worked out perfectly for both numbers, even getting a standing ovation from my audience of three. After Brian had helped me un-drag in the restroom, we four met again in the ballroom and I was offered a guest starring position with the show. Since I wouldn’t be available for every show they would be putting on, because of school commitments, I would be an added attraction when I was available to join them wherever they were performing. They would pay me one thousand a show I did appear in, plus provide transportation each way to meet up with them.
It was explained that they primarily performed in California and Palm Springs, but had appeared in private shows in seven different Western states this past year and were tentatively booked for a few shows in New Orleans over the Holidays this year. I was asked if Brian would be accompanying me and I turned to look directly at him and he was nodding, so I told the two bosses that yes, Brian was necessary to me. They then told me that they would add another five hundred a show so I could pay Brian with that. Brian was again nodding so we had a deal.
My studies were going good that Fall of ’72 and Brian had been able to accompany me on all my assignments and we had actually begun to have a relationship. He was about ten years older than me and after his “showgirl” career he had started to hit the gym and had transformed himself into quite the muscular, handsome dude. He was caring and considerate, and so protective of me. He was just what I needed for my first lover. I began to work out with him, keeping in mind that I had to keep from bulking up too much. Brian saw to it that I became tighter and stronger and much more fit without all the bulk that I enjoyed on him.
During the Holiday break from college in my senior year I was to meet the troupe in New Orleans where several private shows had been arranged for us to perform in. Brian’s assistant manager was left in charge of the salon and as soon as my semester finals were completed, we flew to Louisiana and met up with the rest of the cast. We had two days to run through our show before opening night and after three nights of consecutive successful shows the two managers approached the cast in our dressing room and announced that after the final show on Friday night, we were booked to do another show for a very private party.
This show would be for a group of men who for the most part, were traveling here to New Orleans just to see us. Our pay for this show would be doubled, we were told, as they handed out our pay for that night’s performances as well as our tips collected for that night by the managers as was the custom.
Two nights later, we were surprised by the buffet that awaited us between our last show and the Private one to follow. While we nibbled and the older performers had a drink or two the big entertainment venue was emptied, in preparation of the group that had hired us for an exclusive show only for them. The venue seated two hundred a show and we were told that there would more than likely be only fifty at this private show. Brian was keeping an eye on what was happening out in the seating area in front of the stage and he came and told me not to be too surprised when I was on stage, but it looked like all the paying guests for this show were from Hollywood.
He told me that there were some directors, and some low level stars from TV and the movies he had seen, but coming down to one of the front tables were some stars from westerns and the movies he definitely recognized and he started telling me the names of those he recognized, but when he said that Rock Hudson was out there my heart just about stopped. Remember, this was still the early 70s and nothing was known for sure about any of the big stars being gay.
Brian went on to tell me that Tab Hunter was at another table and he was sure that Richard Chamberlain was at that table as well. I was a bit nervous after he told me all that, but we went back to the dressing room and he reminded me with kisses that we were a couple and in it for the long haul together. He then had to make a few adjustments to my wig and makeup before we performers were called on stage to begin our show.
I performed my two standard numbers and during this first portion (we each performed twice during a show) and I noticed that almost all the men were sitting forward a bit more than they had for the other five performers before me who had lip synced. Brian had told me once that when I sang with my own voice that the audience liked to see if I was really lip syncing and they would watch my throat and mouth a lot when I was on stage.
For my second set, and the closing numbers, I sang Mame as Carol Channing and Big Spender from Sweet Charity in my own voice. Apparently, the group of men liked the last number a lot as there were absolutely piles of money thrown on the stage as I finished, thanking the crowd just before I called the other five performers on stage for a final bow for all of us. The cash all collected by the managers before the whole troupe was on stage for our final bow. The two managers had to come back out and collect hundreds, if not thousands after we six performers had left the stage. I have to tell you that we were not allowed contact with our audience when we were on stage, in fact, most every city we appeared in had ordinances about physical contact between us performers and the audiences we performed for, as well as an ordinance that any male performing as a female had to have an article of men’s clothing on, most wore a pair of men’s briefs on under the female garments we wore.
After the show, while Brian helped me out of drag and the others were doing the same, the two managers of our show came back to our dressing room and handed us each our evenings pay and manila envelopes with our tip money in them, sealed. The managers told us there would be no chance for us to meet tonight’s audience, as they had a plane waiting for them at the airport, but the managers were told that a repeat of tonight just might be arranged when we next performed in Palm Springs in the New Year about Spring Break time when we would be there for about a whole week.
While I showered at the hotel later, Brian counted all the money I had earned and he told me that I had earned over four thousand dollars that night and I told him that two regular shows at a thousand a show and the private show at two thousand would add up to four thousand, and he laughed as he lathered me up after he joined me in the shower and he told me that what he had been counting was the tip money, that the Private audience had tossed over four thousand dollars up on stage while I had performed in the last show of the night!!
Well we did do another very private show for that same Hollywood group when we appeared in Palm Springs that Spring Break, only instead of fifty guys there were an even hundred of them. We were told that these men really appreciated that nothing had ever been said by any of us about their previous attendance at one of our shows and their appreciation was expressed in an extra thousand for each of us except me. In addition to the extra money, which far exceeded the take from the previous shows, I received some birthday gifts. Our two managers, in setting up that private show, had told the person booking it that that night I would be celebrating my nineteenth birthday.
When many years later Brian died of a heart attack at his shop during an attempted robbery by a couple of drugged up thugs, and the lawyer we had used for all those years had read to me his will, I ended up selling the salon to Brian’s longtime assistant and I sold the brokerage house I had started with the funds I’d been able to save from my performing years. With those proceeds I opened a gay guest house in Key West where I still live, surrounded with my memories of Brian, and my brief performing career.
The End
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