So the Bastards, as we are wont to do, decided to throw a goddamn party. And this time, instead of getting the Corcoran brothers drunk and allowing them to fall off of rooftops and seeing what object Brooklyn (hi, me) sets her sights on to destroy that particular evening in the quiet privacy of Bastard Manor, we decided to invite the Rocky Horror community to visit Dallas for an unconventional convention. The visitors came from such exotic places as “New Jersey” and “San Diego,” and they came prepared to party; with all the liquor, riding crops, and discretionary spending required to paint Dallas red.
We took our visitors to our favorite haunts- including two karaoke bars (where Gus performed his fantastically feminine rendition of Total Eclipse of the Heart) (I may have drunkenly done an interpretive dance that brought that particular gay bar down) (we very much confused the Thursday night regulars as to why their normal empty bar was wall-to-wall full of the loud, drunken, lovers-of-attention that all Rocky folk are) (it was delicious), every taqueria known to man at all hours of the night, the Stockyards, the Perot (that’s a museum, get some culture), the place where JFK got it through his head that he wasn’t welcome in Dallas, a CVS, and HOLY GOOD GODDAMN WHATABURGER. For the record- upwards of five visitors reported that it was definitively better than In-N-Out. Suck it, California.
We gave them every comfort of southern hospitality- spaghetti for breakfast one day, tequila and donuts on another (which, hilariously, got party crashed by Dallas socialites because a popular Instagram thought it was a public event and promoted it- check out @dallassocial’s recent posts) (we’ve never had so many women dressed for brunch around us at once) (at least when we’re not approaching them for investment opportunities and empty promises), we allowed them into our homes, we drove them everywhere they needed to go, distributed cigarettes, and even allowed them to bite us if they requested (true story, it’s been a week and the marks STILL haven’t gone away) (it was delicious).
AND THEN we got to perform for those beautiful fucks.
Frank : Jenny
Janet : Jessi
Brad : Johnny
Riff Raff : Gussie
Magenta : Manda
Columbia : Biondini
Dr Scott : Pete
Rocky : Fleep
Eddie : Cody
Criminologist : Phil Banker
Transies: Ace, Ali, Brooklyn, Adrienne, Haley, Henry, Javier, Mason, Jon, Kyle, Madame Leah, Tana, Rachel, Baldwin
Floorwalkers: Jason, Alex, Cody, Sean
Tech/Sound/Props/Etc: Sara Darling, Jennifer, Danny, Sean, Cody, Pete, Madame Leah, Phil Banker, Kristen
This show was an absolute BLAST. We had the best floorwalkers in the nation visiting, so if you weren’t there and enjoy callbacks- you missed out on the best laughs you’ll have at a Rocky show until RKOCon2 (tickets available at http://www.rkocon.com/). We pulled out all of our tricks, including our basketfuls of glitter and splendor and sex and violence and whips and chains that LB is known for.
During our preshow, Jason and Alex led both our regular crowd and our special visitors through our special rules. But, yknow, fuck em. Moving on.
Virgin Games was hosted by myself, with my lovely assistants Heather and Jessi, and it was a combination of Gay Chicken, and Blow the Virgin. I used our virgins as tools to give our visitors even more hospitality, a chance to further their induction into our world by giving them a kiss, a blow, and a show. Our special visitors received nothing but pleasure, and our virgins nothing but cheap shitty prizes. C’est la vie.
When the actual show began, it was an absolute slaughter of fabulous. If you’ve been to an LB show, you know what our boys and girls can do. But nearly EVERYone (looking at you, the-two-I-won’t-name-who-were-responsible-for-a-certain-something-being-upside-down) made this show an absolute PARTY for our guests.
I can talk about the details of the show. I can tell you how Heather and Cody absolutely ROCKED the lift. I can tell you how amazing it was to hear the crowd riot when Pete revealed his full-body lace catsuit as Doctor Scott. I can tell you about how we all mutually exploded when we placed Magic Dance during Rocky’s birth.
But I’ll say this, because I have dumb feelings: Rocky isn’t about the glitter. Rocky isn’t about Don’t Dream It, Be It. Rocky Horror Picture Show is about every single person in that audience that wants an experience. For some visitors, it’s to look at Frank (and God, isn’t Jenny just the best to look at?), for others, it’s to enjoy the crude humor (and aren’t our floorwalkers fantastic?), and for most, it’s to spend some time in a church, being in a place where you can be yourself, and celebrate the world this film (if you can call it that) has given you.
And we all got to worship together. Virgins, veterans, visitors, and us. Damn fine show.
To 40 more years.
Friday, January 29th at the Ridglea in Fort Worth: http://ticketf.ly/1Jvk8Eh
Saturday, January 30th at the Inwood in Dallas: http://bit.ly/1TjntZ8