When I walked to my car this evening I noticed two Somali teens on one side of the street and T, the neighborhood drag queen, on the other side of the street.
One of the Somali teens says something loudly and starts snickering.
T takes offense.
T: “What was that?!”
The boys stop laughing as T marches across the street and stops right in front of my parked car.
T: “What? Hm? What was that?”
Boy #1: “Oh, uh, nothing. He was saying something to me about our, uh, friend.”
T: “Oh no he wasn’t. Do you think I stupid? What was it? SAY IT TO MY FACE!”
Boy #2: “Nothing, nothing.”
I get in my car, but I can’t drive off because T is still standing right in front of it, telling the Somali boys exactly where to go and how to get there…
T: “I know who the fuck you were talking about. You want to say something funny? Huh? You want to disrespect me? Well let me tell you that you don’t know who the fuck you’re dealing with little boy.”
The Somalis are freaked out. I start my car and T looks at me and then steps on the sidewalk to curse the boys out more thoroughly. I was surprised they didn’t run…
And as much as I love to see busted drag queens beating down foreign teenagers... I drive off.
A few hours later when I pull onto my street, I see T in front of my building screaming1 at downstairs neighbor’s window.
T: “PAULITO! PAULITO! Open this god damn door right now! PAULITO! I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE PAULITO!”
T and Paulito have been blaring music all night… I … don’t know what to think. But as long as she’s not screaming at me I’m okay. But I hope she’s not a regular presence in the building…we have enough crazy in this here-yonder as it is.
1 Someone needs to tell “her” that screaming isn’t lady-like…she speaks like RuPaul by the way…And no, she’s not nearly as tall or fabulous.
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