Dare to be different

As I drag my blubbering carcass off the lounge, exhausted after what could only be described as a monster weekend, I pause and contemplate what I am going to actually write about this week.

So many things happened, my list is as long as my arm. Instead of talking about the parties I went to (we all know that they were great), the people I met (we all know that they were hot), I am going to talk about something that has troubled me for some time.

So hold on, I’m about to get on my high horse and gallop around the room, side-saddle of course.

Why is it the number of idiots who are out and about in our streets and our clubs every weekend has increased, giving shit to anyone who is remotely different?

And why should we have to say on the microphone every night, make sure you don’t leave by yourself, it’s not safe?

Oh, it is making me feel ill just thinking about it. Anyone who knows me will agree I try to be friendly and happy to everyone. If you give off a happy, positive energy, nine times out of 10 you get it back.

My old grandmother always said, It doesn’t cost a cent to smile, so show some teeth whenever you can.

Each Friday and Saturday I find myself in a club saying at the top of my voice, It’s a gay club, dickhead. If you don’t want to see a drag queen, piss off!

Why would that be? Should more patrons who are met with negative stares or homophobic comments be biting back? It’s Oxford Street, what do you expect?

This brings me to another point about Oxford St. I was waddling down past the Colombian on Saturday night with fellow showgirl-about-town Fuchsia Star and was met by a carload of out of towners screaming from the car, Get your dick out, girls.

Granted I may have if they had stopped or even slowed down, but that’s not the point. I remember when I first came to Oxford Street and I saw my first drag queen walking down the street. I was in awe at how brave she was.

It seems that you have to be brave just to walk down the gayest street in Sydney now.

I have racked my brains to try to find a solution. One would be to have smart security on all the club doors.

Now I am not up on the laws about who you are and are not allowed to let into our clubs, but surely if anyone is met with any form of homophobia they should feel comfortable in approaching security for help.

The offending person should be thrown out. Maybe if it’s happening to you, let a manager or barman know and if nothing is done about it, get louder!

It seems that the strip is getting smaller, so let’s protect what we have left. We have done it once, let’s do it again.