The laborious job of applying his mask was the worst part of his job, Andy
thought to himself as he laid out his tools of the trade on the makeshift
dressing table in front of him. He had been doing it for far to long now, his
thoughts concluded. Here he was 48 years old and still, literally singing for
his supper, he took a mouthful of his JD on the rocks and started to cleanse
his face.
Andy was a professional female impersonator, Drag Queen as it was more
commonly referred to on the gay scene. His alter ego was a buxom flame
red haired foul mouthed woman by the name of Miss Iva Dic.
This make up drenched entity had been a major part of his life for the last 28
years, originally born from a drunken night in with a group of his girlfriends,
Miss Iva Dic was based on his Aunt Sandra, who was a welsh woman who
always spoke her mind and had a tongue so sharp it could cut through Steel.
Andy soon realised that he had a talent for entertaining people with his
strong singing voice and foul humour.
At the age of twenty he had started hosting the Thursday night karaoke
night as Miss Iva Dic in a small, tacky gay bar in the centre of Brighton called
The Queens Throne, calling out the numbers of the songs, telling a few
jokes, insulting the punters and filling the gaps with the odd show song.
Over the years he had been lucky enough to travel across Spain & Greece
entertaining thousands of holiday makers and locals alike, but things
changed fast and by the time his years of travelling were over and he
returned to Brighton he found himself up against younger, fitter Drag
artistes and their very modern shows, much more Lady Ga Ga and sadly
hardly any Judy. So now, like many times since his return Andy sat staring
into the mirror, coating his face with foundation. With one eye closed, he
wiped the sponge across it, hoping the beige gunk would work its magic and
dissolve the wrinkles. Looking at his face, he moved in closer to the mirror,
noticing the deep markings that life had left on his face, the etched laughter
lines around his eyes, the thinning lips and the odd broken vein that the
foundation would soon cover up. He then started applying the vivid pink
foundation to his tired eyes, followed by thick glittered spider leg false eye
lashes that were a Canary yellow. Today he was doing a Hollywood tribute
show at a local community hall for someone’s 60th Birthday, he hated doing
these but money was money and bills had to be paid.