Deep Dish - Issue 425

When popularity is thrust upon you, it is like a commoner becoming a princess for all the right reasons. Tonight, even in the torrential rains, the lineup to enter the popular monthly party Business Woman’s Special is longer than a soup kitchen in a depression. Inside Augusta House, organizer April Wozny slinks about the red wallpapered interior in a black lace negligee. “I’ve put black tape over my nipples,” she says, whipping out her left breast as proof. “Because people are drinking.” Heaving with delicious goods, the dancefloor is a yummy sample platter of beefy, skinny, hairy, smooth, humpy, dumpy, cute and tough boys, some of whose deodorant clearly ran out a few songs before I arrived. With three DJs rotating (Phil V, Sammy Rawal and Nino Brown), it’s understandably sweaty. Romy & Michele’s High School Reunion plays continuously as I exhaust myself by eye-fucking a hot bastard in jeans hung dangerously low down his breathtaking bubble butt.

Being popular by being a showoff is the goal of any drunken drag queen stumbling down the street in ripped pantyhose. Up the narrow stairs leading to Zelda’s second floor, Roxy Rollover stands guard. “Do you have a reservation?” she asks with straight face and crooked tits. Zelda’s Monday night Dirty Bingo is so popular the space is at capacity. Each month, proceeds from the bingo go to a different charity. The PWA Friends for Life Bike Rally has the honour tonight. Wade Borges, bike rally co-chair, is on hand as two buff guys charitably strip naked and roam the room collecting donations while clutching itsy bitsy teenie weenie unmarked bingo cards in front of their goods. Special rounds with names like “butt plug,” cunty commentary, and the occasional whiff of poppers from the queens keep the night interesting. “We used to pass the poppers around the room,” recalls Lena Over. “But some straight chick drank it once.”

Popularity contests among people who think they are already popular is like reality show participants who takes themselves too seriously. Tonight, popular Saturday night party There Goes the Neighbourhood celebrates its second anniversary. Creator Matt Sims and his army of hosts, including Monty T, Marco Agostino, Aeryn Pfaff, Jeffrey Lopez, Matt Barker and stiff-lipped Jamie Lynne Harper (no relation to our popular prime minister) are on hand to blow out the two candles. The turnout is kind of sparse on this rainy night, and only the second floor is open. Sims, however, is solidly behind the night and is focused on his all-ages events. “I plan to have my Hey Rebel parties operating in four cities across Canada very soon,” he says, while DJs Barbi, Mark Falco, Rolls Royce, Blackcat and Betti Forde take turns trying to get the party started before Gia takes to the stage. “Every time I hear Nicki Minaj, I think Gia,” Barker adds with a wink. Trust.

Those who believe that once popular is always popular are like silent-film stars who pretend sound is just a fad. But some things, apparently, are timeless. Entering the Guvernment nightclub for another edition of Massive, my heart skips a beat as I play catch-up to the thumping bass coming from the main room. The heaving dancefloor oozes with shirtless men clutching water bottles. I haven’t seen a scene like this since the early 2000s. Party boys Ali Tabrizi, DJ Cesar, Lance Kovh and birthday boy Ryan Holbert celebrate among the crowd, which includes a few new faces, while DJs Isaac Escalante and Stephan Grondin spin a set mostly devoid of vocals. “I’m excited about Prism this year,” Gairy Brown says. “Not only do we have a new party, but we’ve also got Kazaky [the Ukrainian pop-dance quartet]!” Adding to this is the return of Sofonda to the fold after trying her hand at her own parties last year. The popular kids always seem to stick together.

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