Page 3 of After Midnight

“So, like this guy,” I said pointing at the heckler, “the only joke I told that he ever laughed at was about farting. Hell, I went around pretending I was farting for like a month before I finally had enough and broke it off.

“However, If any of you know of where I can use my skill for making fart sounds,” I put my hand under my arm and did the middle schooler underarm fart sound, “please let me know…”

The crowd was laughing now… so it was a good time to stop. I waved at them as I slipped off the stage.

Most of that was true, from the first guy who told me he liked me… which incidentally was my best friend in high school, a massive football player I thought was joking me, to the dumb ass model in college, I sucked...

Clearly, I wasn’t going to be one of the lucky ones. “Not husband material,” I announced years ago at one of my first amateur comedy routines.

The crowd didn’t get it, and of course, the dumb as a rock guy was sitting in the audience. No way was I going into too much detail about husbands with him hanging on my every word. But I knew even then that he was going to be fodder for a huge segment of my routine.

What I loved, if not lived for, was being on stage in front of an audience doing everything I could to make them laugh. In other words, playing the idiot. At least I was good at that.

I had decided at the end of my freshman year that I didn’t want to finish college, but I wasn’t quite ready to make that commitment out loud. My dads were everything to me and I really didn’t want to disappoint them.

So, I forced myself to endure another year of school. However, once the semester was over, I finally got the guts to sign up for an audition at Denver’s Comedy Club. I was sweating profuselyas I watched the three performers before me. Damn, I wish I’d brought another shirt with me.

All three of them sucked. I mean, they really sucked. It was like sticking one of our oldest, driest politicians up on stage and expecting them to make you laugh. When my name was finally called, I somehow managed to get on stage. I literally froze and wondered if maybe I was going to end up sucking just as much. Idiot, what was I thinking?

“You okay, son?” a man I couldn’t see asked.

The spotlight was glaring in my face, and I had just enough wits about me to respond. “God no, I haven’t been okay my entire life. In fact, I’m so not okay I just broke up with one of the hottest men I’ve ever met. Why, you ask? Why? Well, he was dumb as a stump. I mean, I’m no Einstein, but jeez, I’m at least able to blink and chew gum at the same time. No, no, I’m not okay,” I said, shaking my head sadly. “Did I mention he was hot as hell? Tall, dark skin, looked like a freaking model. Oh, and he smelled like cake. How does someone even smell like cake? Is there a cologne I’m not aware of named Cake de toilet?”

He laughed. God help me, the man laughed and that’s all I needed.Maybe I’m not such an idiot after all,I thought.

It worked! Dammit, it worked and I was put on the weekend schedule. I came home, hugged my dads and told them I was performing at Denver’s Comedy Club.

Of course, it was all a setup on my part. I needed to wow them because once I did, I was going to drop theno more collegenews on them.

Friday night came, and after hours of practice, with jokes about my dads making up ninety percent of my routine, I did it. I made the whole audience laugh, including my dads.

Saturday morning, I sat across the breakfast table from them feeling confident and maybe a little smug. “So?” I asked.

Papa K laughed. “So what? You fishing for compliments again?” he asked.

“Well, yeah, last night I was too wound up to hear them.”

Dad reached over and put his big arm around me pulling me close. “You did us both proud and now we know you take more after me, seeing how you performed like a…”

“Like a queen?” I interrupted making him laugh.

“Yes, dear one, like a glorious queen.”

Daddy Allen was indeed a drag queen and one who’d made a fantastic living at it despite the fact he was built like a college linebacker. Or maybe, that’s why he made such a good living at it.

Papa K laughed again. “You take after me too, son. Did you know I once starred as Hamlet?”

Dad laughed. “How would anyone who’s spent five minutes with you not know that?”

Papa K pouted and dad went over to him, kissing his pouting lips. “But you were an amazing Hamlet, as I’ve told you many times.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry, but no one is going to wonder where the gay kid with two flaming dads got his talent.”

“Hey now!” both dads said at once, and Papa K, still pouting, said, “We don’t flame!”

Then we were all laughing. They didn’t flame, not really. No one would know Daddy Allen was a drag queen, and Papa K was all business. People who worked for him toed the line. But, I’d known them all my life, and I knew they were beautiful, loving, gay men who never hid who or what they were.

“I have news,” I said suddenly feeling nervous.

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