JACKIE BEAT ATTACKED AT NUMBERS

Monday, February 16, 2009

JACKIE BEAT ATTACKED!?
Current mood: rebellious
Category: Life
Roseanne Barr once called me “the Lenny Bruce of drag”. Thanks to his big mouth Lenny ended up in jail, and thanks to mine I almost ended up in the hospital last night. Let me explain...

When I was first asked to be a part of the Gay Marriage benefit “Love Today, Come What May” at Numbers with fellow performers Selene Luna, Jer Ber Jones, Tammie Brown, Barbie Q and Phyllis Navidad, I immediately said yes. Even though I think there are far more pressing and important issues (like letting young people know that they STILL need to use condoms!), I believe that all people deserve the choice to marry if they want to.

So last night was the big event and there we were, the clowns and modern day vaudevillains, in all our frills and finery, going over our jokes and warming up our voices and touching up our makeup in the makeshift “backstage” area,. The turn-out was respectable (times are tough and tickets ranged from $25 to $75) and one by one we entertained the appreciative crowd with comedy and song.

After my introduction, as I walked to the stage, I noticed a young Asian man in a booth rudely reading a magazine -- not even a REAL magazine, but Odyssey. I stopped near him, rolled my eyes and said, “Um, could you please stop reading that magazine?” The crowd laughed and I proceeded to the stage and then added, “Damn Asians!” Again, the room laughed. I then went on my stand-up routine, which consisted mostly of self-deprecating jokes about my weight. Anyone watching would quickly notice that I make fun of myself more than anyone else and then move on to everyone: The Gays, African Americans, Latinos and yes, even Madonna! The crowd was loving it. Except for the aforementioned magazine reader. He was huffing and puffing and at one point threw a fabric dinner napkin at me. When he stood up and blocked the spotlight, leaving me standing in darkness in the middle of my act, I calmly told him, “If you need a creative outlet then take a fucking pottery class at community college.” He and his “date”, an older white gentleman whom I assumes pays for everything and I do mean EVERYTHING, got up and stormed out, but not before I could add “Have a nice night. Oh, and wear TWO condoms, honey!”

I completed my set and joined Jer Ber in the now empty booth that the Gaysian concubine and his paramour had just vacated. “Oh look, there’s a booth available!” I chirped to the crowd’s delight. Well, to make a long story short (too late!), after the show the owner of Numbers approached me and, fuming and wild-eyed, told me through clenched teeth, “I want you to leave right now or I will have you escorted from the premises!” I seriously thought he was kidding, but no. He repeated himself and I told him I would indeed like an escort out. Numbers, of course, is infamous for its “escorts” so I cheerfully asked, “Who’s going to do it?” “The sherrif’s department!” he informed me. “Sounds good to me, get ‘em on the phone!” I said. Then I thought, this poor guy has no sense of humor and God only knows why he’s so mad -- the racial jokes, my jabs at his uncool nightclub most famous for its tragic May/December prostitution deals -- so I decided to just get my shit and leave.

I grabbed my purse from the “backstage” area and as I left I stopped and loudly told him, “Dont take your lack of intelligence out on me. I’m sorry you have no fucking sense of humor, asshole!” I walked towards the front door and added, “I am being kicked out of here by the owner, everyone! I guess it’s okay for old men to pay for sex here, but it’s not okay to tell certain jokes!” With that, I saw him completely lose it! He picked up the metal microphone stand and came running towards me like an animal. I was terrified and ran out the front door as I saw Jer Ber and my best friend Mario block his way. Mario told me later that the guy was waving the mike stand around and screaming, “DON’T FUCK WITH ME!”

So, I guess it’s more acceptable to beat someone with a metal pipe than to tell jokes that, to unsophisticated politically-correct minds, are considered racist. What a great way to end the Gay Marriage benefit, huh?

I am not a fucking racist. I am, however, a performer that pushes the boundaries. People are different. There are certain stereotypes in place. People have different skin colors, eye shapes, speech patterns and cultural mannerisms. Why is it that all my jokes and judgments about straight people and hetero marriage were considered acceptable and funny, but not a comment or joke about a particular ethnicity. Why is it okay for a black comic to make fun of my lack of dancing skills and even mock my metered, “uptight” way of speaking or for Margaret Cho or Sarah Silverman to make jokes about everyone and everything, but not okay for me to do essentially the same thing? First of all, the laugh almost always comes from the fact that I am playing the part of a clueless, self-centered white person who doesn’t know better. Would it make any difference to learn that I was part Asian, part Black or part Latino? You don’t know my fucking ethnic background, so who’s being prejudice here? I guess being Gay isn’t enough of a minority, huh? Being a white male overrides everything. News flash: A sequined dress and 2 hours of rodeo clown/whore makeup is not the new uniform of a white supremist!

The sad truth is that many members of today’s audience lack critical thinking skills. They do not know how to step back, look at the big picture and ask themselves, “What is this performance really about?” The definition of “irony” is expressing a particular point by saying the complete opposite. But no, all certain people hear is one or two “offensive” words and then they have a knee-jerk reaction.

Yep, it’s easier to beat the supposed racism out of the drag queen with a metal bar than to stop and use your fucking brain.


"BORROWED" FROM JACKIE BEATS BLOG AT: http://blogs.myspace.com/jackiebeatrules