Anything Could Happen (18 page)

It still made him curious how it all worked, though.

“Speaking of Jude,” cried Grant.

Just then Jude, the cute bearish guy who had been with the pseudo drag queen at Guy’s party, walked up and pulled up a chair. “Hey, everybody. Hey, Austin. Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” he said and felt the zing again.
I’m twenty-one! I’m actually twenty-one at last
. “Where is your boyfriend?”
Boyfriend
. He was asking a man about his
boy
friend. Jeez, was there anything more thrilling? He would never get tired of asking a man about his boyfriend. Never.

“Tommy’s backstage, silly boy,” Jude answered.

“Duh!” Austin rolled his eyes and felt silly indeed. Of course. Pseudo drag queen. Drag show.

Then Jude cringed. “I mean, Dixie. Please don’t tell him I said ‘Tommy’! They take this very seriously.”

“I won’t,” Austin promised.

“And the show’s about to start. Five minutes.”

E
VERYONE
was getting their second round of drinks when two things happened. The first was that Jennifer Leavitt arrived.

Oh no!
Austin closed his eyes, willing her to be an illusion.
Guy! How could you? I humiliated myself in front of this woman
.

But no, when he opened his eyes, she was still there. She had on an even wilder pair of glasses and rings on almost every finger.
Why not? She’s an artist, isn’t she
?

“Hey there, Austin. Happy birthday. It’s good to see you again.”

“It is?” Austin said, feeling mortified.

She reached out and ruffled his hair.

“Ms. Leavitt. I am so sorry about my audition.”

She looked at him as if someone had goosed her. “But why?”

“I made such an ass of myself….”

She shook her head with great fanfare. “No, you didn’t. You found out a part was not for you. Guy had made a mistake. I admit you are pretty enough for the role—”

Pretty
?
Pretty
?

“—but if you couldn’t identify with the character, then you were smart to leave. Yes, I would tell you to walk away next time instead of running—”

Austin thought he would die.

“—but you did the right thing. And even just the little part you did read showed me you can act.”

Austin fell back in surprise. “It did? I can?”

“Oh yes. And I insist you audition for us in the future. Promise me, all right?”

“I-I….”

“Promise!” She pointed a finger with great authority right in his direction.

“I-I….” He smiled. Grinned. Wow! And instantly felt a weight lift from his shoulders. “I promise.”

“And you were worried,” Guy whispered in his ear.

He turned to his friend, and was immediately lost in his eyes. He found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss those eyes, kiss that mouth, when sudden loud music blasted out over them from hidden speakers.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for the Liddle Awful Annie Show!”

The crowd went wild. Apparently this was something pretty awesome, thought Austin.

Then that famous ballad, “Tomorrow,” from the Broadway musical
Annie,
bombarded them at even higher decibels. “Starring—Liddle—Awful—Annie!”

More cheers.

“Also starring Dixie Wrecked, Gena Talia, Dharma Greggs, and Billy the Bear!”

By now the whooping and hollering was drowning out even the music, and that was saying something. “And now that filthy filly, that sleazy slut, that temptuous tramp, Liddle—Awful—
Annie!
”

And like a tornado, she appeared. For a moment Austin assumed she was a drag queen, a “he.” But that thought didn’t last long. Annie was every single inch a woman—and her extraordinary cleavage was just part of it.

“The queers will throw up, tomorrow!” she belted in a spoof of the lyrics to the famous song, her voice powerful and crazy. “’Cause they drank themselves silly at the bars! All night looooong. Just dreamin’ about… cock-sucking… got them horned up, oh so bad, they drank like fools!”

It was the “Tomorrow” song—and it
wasn’t
. Like she was Little Orphan Annie, and she was most assuredly wasn’t. Sure, she had red curly hair, but it was huge and bouncy, reminding Austin of a Halloween afro wig a friend in school had worn one year when pretending to be a hippy with his girlfriend. It was simply gigantic. She had a red dress with a white collar—but said dress also included a corset, which took her already ample breasts and thrust them up and out in a straight man’s—or lesbian’s?—fantasy. She had even painted her eyelids white, so that when she closed them, it gave her the creepy blank stare of the famous newspaper strip. But this
wasn’t
Little Orphan Annie, oh no. This was Liddle—Awful—Annie! And Austin saw right away what all the fuss was about. She was awesome.

“The queers are all out, tonight and, bet their bottoms need fucked well, all night!”

By then Austin was laughing until tears were running down his face. He shouted with the audience and knew something else magical had happened. It was more than looking around a room and wondering,
Are all these guys gay?
It was more than knowing that, yes, all these men—or most of them—were gay. In the cheering, he knew without a doubt he was a part of something bigger than himself. And he truly was not alone. He never would be again. By that point, he didn’t know if his tears were from laughter—or from joy.

Annie’s song came to an end, and she bowed to more applause. Austin clapped until his hands hurt. He was having that much fun. His worries, at least for now, were forgotten.

“Hello, everybody!” she shouted jubilantly into her mic.

“Hello!” screamed the crowd.

“Are we ready to par-
tay
tonight?”

The audience let her know they were.

“I can answer that myself just by asking you this: Does a fish have a watertight asshole?”

Of course, everyone let her know that fish do indeed have watertight assholes. They screamed it from the rafters in fact.

Annie stood up proudly, thrust her tits out, and said, “Well, we have one fuck-a-doodle of a
great
show tonight. You aren’t going to know whether to shit or wind your wristwatch by the time we’re done. And you know what else? We have a very special birthday tonight! We have us a new gay! And what could be better than that?”

“Oh crap,” cried Austin and looked all around him. If he only lowered himself in his chair, maybe the audience wouldn’t know which person in their group she was referring to. That hope vanished very quickly.

“Mike? Alyn? Go get our birthday homo and bring him up here on stage!”

“Crap,” he exclaimed again. By then it was too late, and Annie’s sexy cohorts were on him, dragging him up on the stage to the approval of the packed room.

But while that was happening, Liddle Awful Annie came down into the audience. “Hey, Guy. How’s my favorite director?” she asked into her mic.

“I’m good,” he answered when she thrust said mic into his face.

“These Sham-pag-nee bootles aren’t open yet—how’s a why?”

Mic back in his face. “We were still waiting for a couple people.”

“I assume they’re fags?” she asked.

Mic in his face again. “Indeed.”

“What?”

“Yes, they are.”

“And you didn’t know they would be late?”

The audience laughed.

Austin watched all this from the stage, wondering what the hell was going to happen next.

“Hey, Grandpa,” she said to Uncle Bodie. “Aren’t you cute?”

“Not nearly as cute as you,” Uncle Bodie replied for all to hear.

Annie smiled. “You are a sweetheart. May I ask you a question?”

“You may,” he replied.

“Are you here because you support your friends, or because you are a homo-so-sexual?”

“Baby girl… I am as gay as a Catholic priest.”

“Hurray,” she cried, and many hoorays followed.

“Are you family or friend?” she asked.

“I am both. At least I like to think so.”

Annie turned back to the crowd. “This is awesome!”

She turned back to the three tables, still with a few empty seats. “Mind if I take one of these here Sham-pag-nee bootles? I mean, considering some of the birthday boy’s guests are late. I will make it fun.”

“My lady,” Uncle Bodie replied. “I would not dare tell you what you can or cannot do during your own show. But please do take note that Champagne is
not
Andre.”

Annie pulled one of the bottles from the bucket and read it carefully. “Oh my. This isn’t the cheap shit, is it?” She spun back on the group. “I still promise it will be a birthday he will never forget,
bien
?”

Uncle Bodie nodded. “Then be my guest,” he said. “In honor of once-in-a-lifetime birthdays,” he said with a nod.

Austin stood transfixed, watching what was going on below. How the hell was this happening? How did they know it was his birthday? Well, the reservations must have clued them in a bit, he realized. And the leather boys did ask whose birthday it was.

I am screwed!

Annie sauntered up to the stage, bottle in hand. “Austin,” she said. “I want to ask you something.”

Austin gulped. “Yes?” he replied.

“Out of my two boys here—” She pointed at the young one. “—Alyn—” Then she pointed at the bigger of the two. “—or Mike. Which one flicks your Bic?”

The crowd began to chant, some of them saying one name, some of them saying the other. Both men began to hump against Austin, running their hands up and down his body, thank God avoiding his crotch.
Please don’t let them touch my dick!

Annie stuck the mic in his face. He looked down at his friends once more, saw them all grinning and chanting with the audience. “I guess Mike,” he gasped.

There was much applause.

“Okay, then, Mike.
You
do the honors, all right?”

Mike gave Austin a lascivious grin, snatched the bottle from Annie’s hand, and stepped deep into the birthday boy’s personal space.

Crap
, thought Austin. Muscles on muscles. He’d never been into that more-than-military buzz cut, but it worked on Mike. The man was a shadow away from being bald, but God, it was hot. He began to make a great production with the Champagne bottle. He rubbed it against his bare chest, licked it like he was about to give it a blowjob, and finally popped the cork so it flew across the room. Then quick as a flash, he pointed it at his own chest, and when the Champagne foamed out, his muscles were instantly covered in bubbles. The crowd went insane. Then he grabbed Austin, and shoved his face between his pecs.

Oh, what the crap
, Austin thought, and to the bar’s approval, he began sucking and licking the expensive wine off the man’s body. It was a mess. By the time he was done, or that Mike was done with him,
he,
too, was a mess. But when they finally let him go back to his seat, he knew it was a night he would never forget.

T
HE
evening turned into a series of montages in Austin’s mind after that. The alcohol flowed pretty freely, after all, and the drinks were strong and everyone was buying.

The show was a blast. Tommy Smith, aka Dixie Wrecked, came out and did several numbers that had Austin nearly falling out of his seat, they were so crazy. What really impressed him was that Tommy/Dixie sang instead of lip-syncing, including his version of “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.” Instead of the Mary Poppins classic song, Dixie came out on stage whirling a long double-headed dildo over his head like a baton and singing….

“Because I was a pervert back when I was just a lad

My father gave my butt a spank, and told me I was bad

But then one day, I bought a toy to soothe my aching hole

The biggest toy you've ever owned that you can even blow!

Super-phallic-realistic-double-ended-dildo,

Even though the sound of it will give you such a thrill-oh!

If you use it long enough, you might come on your pill-oh!

Super-phallic-realistic-double-ended-dildo!”

The song brought the house down.

Guy got rather possessive. Mike the waiter and backup dancer tried to move in on Austin again, but Guy wasn’t having it. He scooted his chair right up next to Austin’s, put his arm around his shoulders, and glared at the man. Austin couldn’t believe it. Part of him wanted to say, “Hey, whose birthday is this, anyway?” Having a hairy muscle man flirt with him was pretty hot. But the other part kind of liked Guy’s surprising possessiveness. And so he snuggled closer and pretended. Why not? It felt nice.

More people showed up to fill the empty seats they’d reserved—including Grady, the big man Austin had met dressed up as Truvy Jones the day he’d seen
Steel Magnolias
. The rest were mostly people Austin didn’t know, but that was okay. Grant went to the car and brought back a gift, which turned out to be a sexy pair of underwear. “Now make sure we get to see you in it,” Tony said, and Grant elbowed him hard. More laughter.

Jennifer gave him four passes to the Pegasus, which pleased Austin immensely. She leaned in and whispered, “Use at least one of them to see this show of Guy’s,” and winked at him.

Jude and Dixie gave him a fifty-dollar bar tab, which stunned him. “You can’t do this,” he protested. “We hardly know each other!” But they assured him the bar manager had put in half, and that made him feel a little better.

And Guy got him a T-shirt with a rainbow-bar logo and words that decreed: “Sorry Girls, I’m Gay.” Austin’s eyes went wide in surprise.

“Hope you don’t mind,” Guy said. “I wanted you to have your first gay shirt. I know you might not be ready to wear it down Main Street, but you’ll have something for Gay Pride at least.”

“Gay Pride?” Austin asked, a tad nervously.

“Of course,” Guy said. “You’re going next year, right?”

Austin thought about it for a minute, and then let the Cuba Libre do the thinking for him. “Sure,” he said. “Why not?” and got a little cheer from his guests.