Feathers on HK Pride

Hello, Friends!

A heavy blanket of smoke hung over Sheung Wan as I walked home Saturday night after the HK Pride March. Fire had razed our new neighbourhood beauty salon, "Feathers," to a black crisp.

The entire district smelled oddly fishy, and that's prolly 'coz the fire decimated all the dried fish for which the neighbourhood is known for.

For a second, I wondered whether or not the fire had anything to do with Pride. That overzealous vigilantes perhaps decided to burn at random to punish the gays for being so darn visible? And that beauty parlour called "Feathers" - well, it just sounds so gay, hence, it must burn?

I was imagining all sorts of scenarios 'coz my imagination is just fertile like that. It's unlikely that I'll ever find out what really caused the fire. It could very well have just been an accident.

Parts of Queen's and Hollywood Roads were closed to vehicular and pedestrian traffic. Fire hydrants spewed water everywhere. Dogs merrily danced amidst heretofore unseen geysers. Nosey types like myself held up mobile phone to take photos.

It was the most exciting thing to have happened to Sheung Wan since... Oh, I dunno... a beloved cha chaan teng closed to make way for another 7-11.

I do feel horrible that I was mostly annoyed with the fire, more than anything else. I totally lost all sense of human compassion when my nice shirt started stinking of burnt fish and feathers (ha, ha - bad joke). Plus the road closures made it infinitely difficult to get a cab on our way to my good friend Jeff's 50th birthday celebration in his posh Parkview penthouse.

Regardless, all sense of annoyance was allayed as soon as we got to the party. Veuve Clicquot flowed freely. Effervescent bubbles proved effective for soothing frayed nerves.

It helped, too, that a highly social Brazilian hunk served as some sort of party lubricant. He was friendly with everybody. His muscular forearms were covered in bright tats, his flaming red trousers were snug in all the right places, and I just adored his electric blue sneakers. He was a peacock. All that's missing were - what else? - feathers.

Fabiola got herself feathered out at Volume's "Drag Overdose" party afterwards. It was a night of pure decadence and debauchery - because what else can possibly happen when all the king's horses and all the king's men become drag queens? It was the night the beautiful Wishes sisters, Champagne and the Caviar, were born.

The club was packed to the rafters. Meanwhile, the queue to get in snaked all around the block. It was impossible to fit any more people into such limited space.

So Fabiola trekked to Lan Kwai Fong to attend Les Peches' official Pride after-party escorted by two ever so gallant knights-in-shining-armour, Mr Gay HK 2010 Heihei Yau and Mr Gay HK 2011 Jimmy Wong.

A baby dyke named "Joe" (who looked 17 years old but was probably 27, maybe more) promptly started grinding against Fabiola. The drag queen felt something hard rubbing against her leg - and she was sure it wasn't a mobile phone. But what else could it have been? In a moment of panic, she dropped a gold earring onto the gaping abyss of the dance floor - never to be seen again.

"I feel like a ghetto black lesbian," Fabiola exhaled, peeling her gold pumps and sliding into a pair of Havaianas flip flops whilst queued up for a cab along Pedder street.

"Ghetto. Black. Lesbian," a black chick snarled, three persons ahead of the queue.

Her boyfriend grabbed her elbow, shushing her. "Not worth it," he whispered.

Damn right, sistah. I'm a drag queen, can't you see. You want da 'hood? I'mma give ya 'hood. Watch.

Fabiola took off her hair and jewellery in the cab to prevent any more loss of valuables.

The cabbie dropped Caroline, Lore and myself halfway to our homes.

Queen's Road was still blocked.

Smoke still billowed thickly out of Feathers.




With Affection,
James