Drag Queen (Robert Rodi Essentials) by Robert Rodi

Author:Robert Rodi [Rodi, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC011000, FICTION / Gay, FIC052000, FICTION / Satire, FIC016000, FICTION / Humorous
Publisher: Robert Rodi
Published: 2014-01-07T00:00:00+00:00

She drove down the Eisenhower Expressway at about thirty-five miles an hour. Other drives passed her while laying on their horns, creating an endless chorus of Dopper-shift wails. Kitten thought, If she doesn’t speed up, we’re gonna end up shot dead in a drive-by.

But she puttered on, oblivious. “After Fivos left me—that’s my third husband, the Greek musicologist—did you get the invitation to the wedding? I asked your ma to forward it—anyway, I bought a farm in Scotland and that’s where I live now, just outside Edinburgh, which it turns out is a really cosmopolitan city in most ways except there’s no place any civilized human can eat unless you like Indian food, which of course I do. But you can’t like Indians themselves, see, which is the paradox, because I sort of adopted a young Pakistani girl named Chandu and when people in town found out she wasn’t my housekeeper but my foster daughter, well, they showed how cosmopolitan they are, which is not very.”

“Oh, I’m sorry about that,” Kitten said, fascinated anew by Aunt Joline’s boomerang course through life. “Maybe you should pull up stakes and go back to the villa in Tuscany. You loved it there.”

“Oh, honey, I had to sell that.” About a mile ahead of her, a groundhog ran into the road; she slammed on the brake as though she were on top of it. The Audi behind her almost plowed into her; its driver now blared his horn at her in aggrievement. “See,” she continued, creeping forward, “I was living with this Israeli for a while in the eighties, and he got into some kind of trouble in Brussels, and I didn’t know what exactly, but he needed money to help him out of it; and after I wired him the proceeds from the sale of the villa I learned that the trouble involved some kind of terrorism, so I thought, enough of him, and I went to live in Hong Kong because I got a job offer to each a course in Milton at a secondary school there, which is pretty funny ‘cause I’d never read Milton. Had to get up to speed on the plane. A little too Puritan for me, but I liked his portrayal of the Devil a lot. Reminded my of my first husband, who was for sure the best of the lot. ‘Member him—Uncle Sasha? Back where you were just a cute little Doo we wanted to squeeze to death? Anyway, when I got to Hong Kong, the school had closed because the headmaster had fled in the big ‘brain drain’ that’s going on over there in anticipation of Beijing rule, so I took a job running a karaoke machine at a Japanese bar, which is where I met Fivos, who used to come in and sing Okinawan folk songs he’d learned phonetically. Swear to God. I mean, how was I not supposed to swoon? Bastard. Anyway, once I’d finished with him I went to Scotland to start a family.

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