Want to see the best pictures of me that have ever been or will be taken, ever? I was looking for something else from my childhood this weekend and I found them.
They're from a photo booth.
That's my friend Matt. Big old bear. I wonder what ever happened to him?
This is back when I thought I was Madonna. Obviously.
I wore a lot of matte lipstick. And little else.
I remember this night vividly, despite the fact that I apparently couldn't bear to be separated from my Rolling Rock long enough to take the pictures (you can sometimes see it in there, over Matt's left shoulder). We were at the Ramrod. And I know it will shock you to hear this -- what with the brahmin-sounding name and everything -- but the Ramrod is gay.
It was Leather Night. Unofficially, every night was Leather Night at the Ramrod, but on Official Leather Night you got in for free if you were wearing something made out of dead cows. (I just looked it up and was shocked to find that not only does the Ramrod still exist -- which must be some sort of all-time nightclub record around here -- but they also still do Leather Night. Although, these days, you're allowed to drape yourself in something faux.)
We didn't know this when we planned to go there. In fact, we really just decided to pop in on a whim. There were five of us, me and my Gay Gang, and I was the only one who had any leather on at all. But I had on enough to pass around.
I gave the hat to Rusty and the biker coat to Matt, traded Michael's sneakers for my combat boots, let Peter wear the collar and kept the brassiere for myself. Oh yes, that is a leather bra I'm wearing. Got it at a store called Hubba Hubba. They also sell lots of, um, other things.
When we were through the door I gathered all my stuff back -- though I think Peter must have still had the collar on when Matt and I got in the booth -- and we had a grand old time. We closed the place, in fact, and on the way home we stopped in at Burger King. I was starving, and not a little drunk, but all I ordered was french fries and Diet Coke.
Because of course I wouldn't think of eating meat.
6 comments:
Hey! The picture of you in the hat is mi-TEE sassy, too! These pictures are great, 'though, and I love the story. (Okay, don't hate me if you don't like her, and it's probably the lipstick and black and white, but I think you're reminding me of Sylvia Plath here--ya know, if she got some gumption and when to leather nite with her jolly friends. Something that would have been very good for her, BTW.)
Sylvia Plath? Really? I honestly have no opinion of the woman -- never read her or her husband, never even saw the movie.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go stick my head in the oven.
Ya jamoke! Don't you be messin' up that nice new oven!
:-)
(No real opinion either--read The Bell Jar eons ago. Somethin' about the picture just clicked with a photo I'd seen of her. Matte lipstick, methinks.)
I'm a survivor
I miss my clavicle.
You look awesome!
Oh for heaven's sake, i'm a little slow on the uptake here. just got the irony of the leather clad vegetarian. i think my membership in the think tank is about to be revoked.
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