Flamingo Lounge

It's funny how stories grow and change as I work on them. This one had three or four different themes before I settled on the story you're about to read. I hope I chose the right one.

Back to the more light-hearted stuff my followers know me for, this is a feel-good piece with a little bit of revenge, but not much. Mostly it's a story about a someone finding themselves through unforeseen circumstance in a slightly all-to-perfect world. Sound familiar? LOL.

I hope you enjoy the story. All caveats apply, everyone is over eighteen, and of course, there's the happy ending. Leave me a comment when you're done.

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Waking up in a strange place with a raging hangover wasn't entirely unknown to me, especially after an epic drunk like the one I seem to have experienced last night. It was one reason that my degree had taken so long, and my dad had quit paying for it. I could sort of blame him if I wanted to. He never held me accountable for most of the things I did growing up. I was his son and could do no wrong.

I think he just assumed I'd know how to handle my independence and the college life by osmosis or something, but to be fair, the choices I made were mine, it was my fault and mine alone.

My dad wasn't supportive or understanding, mostly he just didn't want to be bothered with the messes I made. I actually had a better relationship with his lawyer than I did with him.

For reasons I never understood, my uncle Mike had stepped in to help, which I appreciated. This new relationship with his younger brother pissed my dad off to where he disowned me, making my uncle Mike pretty much my only family.

Mike treated me differently than my dad. He didn't send his high-priced lawyer to bail me out when I got drunk and picked a fight, but he picked me up from the drunk tank the next morning and drove me to the hearing with the judge and then helped me figure out how to stay in school and do my community service or pay my fine slowly letting me learn that what I did was my responsibility just as the results were. We talked, and he listened. No judgement, just honest discussion on what might have been a better choice, and we talked a lot.

Let's just say, any sense of responsibility I had was hard earned the hard way and most of the lessons took me two or three tries to pick up. In a lot of ways, Mike was the dad I should have had. He probably saved my life in more ways than one. The interesting thing was, I didn't really know much about what Mike's personal life; whether it was a phone call, a beer over lunch, a ride home from jail, or a little help with my tuition, he was just always there when I needed him.

My epic drunk had been Mike's wake. My dad, my mom, my sister, my aunts, uncles, and cousins; none of them were there. I guess I drank for all of them.

---

The first thing I noticed as I slowly woke up was my raging headache. The second was that I was in someone's bed, not mine, and was completely naked. Third were the soft moans emanating from the body next to me and the arm across my chest, followed closely by a growing urge to pee.

Gently extricating myself from the loose embrace, I smiled at the bright purple polish on the nails and the thin, fit body with the large morass of blonde hair that had been lying next to me. Whoever it was, was damned hot and just as naked as me. If I got lucky, I didn't remember it. In fact, I remembered very little from last night.

Wondering how I got here and exactly what the blonde I left lying in the bed and I had done, I made my way across the small bedroom in search of the bathroom.

The apartment was small and tidy, and it slowly dawned on me that if we had arrived in a pre-coital rage of hormones, clothes should be everywhere. The apartment was spotless.

I found the bathroom and took care of my business before splashing some water on my face and admiring the damage. The guy looking back at me in the mirror had seen better days. His eyes were bloodshot, and his sparse beard needed to be shaved. His long red hair looked like a nest of rats had partied in it all night. The small crust of something on his cheek suggested he might have thrown up in the recent past or done something equally stupid.

I was not an intelligent drunk, but isn't that a classic oxymoron?

How I ended up in bed with the cute little blonde I had woken up next to was as much a mystery as the rest of the night. The last thing I remembered was drinking toasts to my uncle. We had begun with whatever we were drinking. Someone produced a bottle of very expensive scotch which quickly disappeared, only to be replaced with tequila. That's where things got fuzzy.

"My turn. Aspirin is in the medicine cabinet behind the mirror. I think there's a razor in there, too. Your clothes are out on the balcony, drying out." A soft voice drifted through the cobwebs in my head, a gentle hand caressing my back as I washed my face and ran my wetted hands through my hair, trying to tame the beast. I was both trying to glimpse her lithe, naked body just as much as I was trying not to, as my host slid behind me to the toilet.

"Now scoot." She swatted my butt.

"Yes, ma'am." I chuckled weakly and moaned, opened the medicine cabinet, used the razor to give myself a quick shave, took the entire bottle of aspirin, and went to find my clothes.

"Exactly what did I do last night, anyway?" I stood on the balcony looking at the remnants of my clothes. I had wrestled with something in the mud and lost badly. My shirt and jacket were both torn. There was a big rip in the leg of my pants and my boxers might qualify for a cleaning rag if someone was being generous.

"We were leaving The Flamingo. You slipped on the grass and rolled down the hill and got a little dirty. You thought it would be a good idea to climb into the fountain to clean yourself off. When you tried to get out, you got caught up on the decorative wrought iron. I asked Derrick to help me bring you here. I got you cleaned up as best I could. You were very grateful."

I turned to see my host, an adorable blonde with a huge smile, wearing a pair of shorts and a crop top with no bra. Her nipples teasing the thin fabric as her breasts rose and fell with her breath. Her name was Ash.

"Grateful? How? I mean, sure, I appreciate you taking care of me, but the way you said it, well..."

"You don't remember anything, do you? Oh crap. I thought you were more aware than that or I never..." She turned beet red. The look on her face changing from a playful smirk to a serious, 'shit I fucked up.'

"We had sex, right? We had sex and I don't remember a thing. Fuck. I hate it when I do shit like this. Look, I'm sorry. Drunk me probably made you all kinds of promises, too." I gave her the most apologetic, sad look I could muster. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, I am such an ass sometimes."

"I think I should be the one apologizing to you." Ash shifted from one foot to the other. "Listen, it was fantastic. I liked it, all of it. It's just probably not what you think."

It occurred to me, I was naked, my hands full of my destroyed clothes, talking about a night of sex that I didn't remember. "Listen, whatever it is, or was, I've probably done worse, trust me. But, um, I should probably put something on before we continue this conversation and, well, I don't think these are going to work." I held up the tattered remnants of my suit.

"I could loan you something." Ash smiled and did her best not to laugh.

"Loan me something, you? Like what?"

"Wait here and keep an open mind. It's not like you can run around naked, you know, even if I am enjoying the view." She couldn't help it anymore. She burst out laughing and I couldn't help but join her.

"Sorry. I'm pretty girly with my underwear, but they might fit. You slip those on, and I'll see if I can find some shorts or something for you." Ash handed me a pair of lacey pink panties with little flowers all over them. She was making this as bad for me as she could and was enjoying every minute. "We can pick up our conversation where we left off when we're on more equal footing."

I wasn't convinced that me standing in her kitchen in pink floral panties was any better than me naked, but I didn't have much of a choice. My antics had ruined my clothes.

I found my wallet and keys and stuff from my pockets on the counter and a few bruises and scrapes I had evidently earned in my fight with the fountain at the bar. With the help of a large handful of aspirin, my head was slowly clearing. Memories of last night slowly drifting to the surface.

I remembered a big guy, probably this Derrick Ash mentioned, helping me up the stairs and into Ash's apartment. There was a shower of sorts, and then they put me to bed.

Rubbing my temples as my headache fought to stay relevant, I slowly remembered Ash, her slim, perfect, naked body next to mine. We kissed. We touched each other. Her lips caressed my body, going wonderful places. I returned the favor. An orgasm, oh shit, yes, an incredible orgasm. She gave me a blow job. I smiled as the memory slowly became clear, her head bobbing up and down as her lips and tongue licked and caressed my shaft. It had been so good.

"So, try these on. I think they'll fit. They are probably a little shorter than what you're used to, but..."

"Fuck me. I sucked your cock last night. Your trans..." I blurted it out, cutting her off. I could feel the look of shock and disbelief on my face, but it didn't match what I was feeling inside.

That look of dread came over Ash's face again. "I'm sorry. I thought you knew. I didn't realize how drunk you were. I would never..." She looked down at her feet, tears welling behind her crystal blue eyes.

"Ash, don't... It's ok. I told you I had done some stupid stuff when I was drunk, but..." I paused, choosing my next words carefully as the fog in my head dissipated. "Listen, I know I was drunk. You probably were a little, too. But I don't think this was one of those stupid things. Surprising, unexpected, yes, but stupid, no. I never in my life thought I'd ever put someone's dick in my mouth. I don't like guys, but you're not a guy. You're beautiful and sexy, and..." I paused again, letting the fog clear a little more. "I think I liked it. Pleasing you, that is." I took a few steps toward her.

Awkward describes the next few moments but doesn't do them justice. I was still slowly remembering things, and Ash was trying to resolve what I had said. All while I stood in her kitchen in nothing but her panties.

Part of me wanted to run away and part of me wanted to pull her close and kiss her. All of me saw the beautiful, fragile flower standing in front of me, hurt and confused and scared. I wasn't hurt, but I had the confused and scared in spades.

"So, you're not mad that I took advantage of you?"

"No. I think we kind of took advantage of each other. Besides, didn't you say it was 'really good'?" I probably emphasized the word 'really,' more than she had. "Listen. I drink and I get stupid. I know that. Yesterday was special. I rarely drink like that anymore. One thing Mike helped me understand is that, drunk or not, what I do is still my responsibility. Kind of makes it unfair for me to be mad at you, doesn't it?"

Ash nodded and handed me the clothes in her hand. The shorts were shorter than any I owned and fit snug, accenting my ass and legs. I pulled on the t-shirt, noticing it fit tighter than I was used to. If I'd been a girl trying to show off my body, it would have been perfect.

For now, it was what I had. At least I wasn't waiting in the drunk tank at the police station for a ride. "By the way. Do you know where my shoes and socks are?"

"Not a clue. Derrick and I looked for them and never found them. You were a total mess last night. I've got some sandals you can wear, and you'll probably want a purse, too. Those shorts have fake pockets."

Ash was absolutely enjoying my predicament. When she came back from the bedroom with sandals with three-inch heels and a rhinestone covered purse, I was sure of it.             

I bagged up my clothes to drop in the dumpster downstairs and put my wallet, keys, and stuff in the small purse Ash gave me and followed her out the door. Fortunately, it was a short walk back to the 'The Flamingo,' and at ten o'clock in the morning, no one was around.

It only took a few minutes to swap the shorts and shirt Ash loaned me for ones from a bag I had in my trunk, and the sandals for the flip-flops in my back seat. I didn't feel like changing my underwear in broad daylight, fifty feet from a rather busy public street, so the panties stayed. They were kind of comfortable, anyway. There was just something about the satin sliding across my butt and the way the lace trim teased me when I moved. I was even enjoying the slight wedgie they gave me.

"Just put them in your bag. I can get them back another time." Ash gave me a wry smile as she declined my offer to return her things. "What are your plans, anyway?"

"Find a place to stay and then find a job. I drove straight here from my apartment at school. Sold my furniture to my roommates, so everything I own is in my back account, or in my car. I've got an appointment with some lawyer guy in a couple of days, but that's about it. You don't know anybody looking for a roommate, do you?"

"What about your family? Don't they live around here?"

"That's an awkward situation. My dad got tired of my shit, I guess, and cut me off. When Mike stepped in to help, he completely disowned me. I haven't seen him or anyone else in the family for a few years. You might have noticed none of them came to the funeral or the wake."

"You keep calling your uncle Mike. Don't you know about Miki? That's what everyone here called her."

"Her?"

"That means you're not up to speed on The Flamingo either, right?"

"Other than it's an odd place for a wake, no. Not really."

"And Miki, or Mike, was your favorite uncle and took care of you. Are you sure you came to the right wake?"

"We didn't really see each other much except for the two or three times he had to come bail me out and the dozen or so lunches when he came to check on me at school. Mostly, we talked on the phone and wrote back and forth. I know he was as flamboyant as he was compassionate. That flamboyance was probably part of the reason he and my dad didn't get along. I know he was a superb listener and that he helped me finally get my shit together and graduate before I got kicked out of school, and that he kept me out of jail a few times when I deserved to stay. That and he helped me become a responsible person, something my dad never had the time or interest to do. Yeah. Mike, or Miki Baker, was my uncle and if that was his wake last night, then I was absolutely in the right place. Besides, I got to meet this cute blonde girl that seems to have a way of getting under my skin."

My last comment got a smile. Ash grabbed my hand and started toward the club. "Well, come on then Jackie. Let me show you around The Flamingo and introduce you to your Aunt Miki a little."

"You have keys? You work here?"

"All the girls that work here have keys. We need them to come in on off hours and work on our acts. I'll explain everything once we get inside. After I show you around, we can go get lunch and then you can come back and watch rehearsal this afternoon. By the end of that, you should know Miki a little better." She tugged my arm, encouraging me to move a little faster.

The bar area hadn't changed from whenever it was last night that we left. The bartender had cleaned up the area that the last few hardliners and I had been in, and it looked like any other bar. Where things got interesting was backstage. I had friends that did theater in high school and in college and I had been backstage many times, but this was on an entirely different level, racks and racks of elaborate costumes, formal gowns, feather boas; it looked like Cher, Elton John and Lady Gaga's closets had had an orgy. Then there were the wigs, dozens and dozens of them.

"These are all mine." Ash pointed to a huge shelf of platinum blonde hair. "I do Dolly Parton. Wanna see my boobs?" She giggled and produced a massive breast plate. They had to be double D, easy.

"Jules does Tina Turner, Grace does Cher." She mentioned a few others as she pointed to a few different areas. "Miki used to do Bette Midler and Liza Minnelli."

"The Flamingo is a drag bar, a cabaret?"

"It's an excellent show, too. Sometimes we get big names. We even had Rue Paul here once. That was a blast. Miki was the master of ceremonies. She absolutely owned every crowd that came in. It hasn't been the same since she died."

Miki had been as big a part of Ash's life as mine. I pulled her into an enormous hug. We spent the next few minutes just crying together.

We walked to a little deli down the street for lunch and ran into a few of the girls I had met last night at the wake. They were all in the show at The Flamingo, and all remembered me. I remembered a few of them. Evidently, I had made an impression. The next couple of hours were a series of wonderful stories about Miki and The Flamingo.

Ash and I took the long way back to the cabaret. She pointed out eclectic little shops in the neighborhood and we even went in and browsed through a few of them. Everybody I met was incredibly nice, and I slowly discovered, also lived somewhere under the LGBTQ-XYZ umbrella.

The entire area around The Flamingo was a world I never knew existed in my hometown, a part I'm sure my father and the rest of my family would never acknowledge and probably actively opposed at every turn.

I understood why my family had ostracized Mike, why they had cut me off for associating with him. He was the enemy of my father's ultraconservative world. Mike not only supported the people in this neighborhood, but he was also one of them, a flamboyant drag queen, probably gay, and maybe more.

By association, I guess I was guilty, too. It's odd what some people will put before, even family. I was suddenly glad they hadn't come to the wake. I was glad they had cut me off.

We got back to the Flamingo, and I got to meet the head bartender, Jesse, and the club manager Ellen. Ellen also produced the show. "So, you're Jack Baker, Miki's nephew? Do you sing like her, too?"

"From what I've heard, probably not like her." Calling Mike 'her,' sounded oddly right. "But I did some karaoke in college. Karaoke is kind of like tending bar, though. Who didn't?" I laughed.

"Watch it, Miki's nephew or not, I will take you out." Jesse looked at me sideways, scowled, and then laughed.

"You know any Bette Midler, maybe 'The Rose,' or 'Wind Beneath my Wings?'" Ellen drew my attention back to her.

"Everybody knows those. I mean, I could try it, but I'd need the words." Ellen was going somewhere with this, somewhere very specific. "Can I ask why?"

"This weekend is a tribute to Miki. Those were her biggest numbers. You're her family."

"So, no pressure at all, right?"

"Maybe just a little." She smirked. We both laughed.

"Sure, let's give it a shot. For Miki."

I'd almost always been drunk or at least adequately buzzed when I'd done karaoke before, and I'd never had a reason to sing than to not be any worse than whoever went before me. In most college bars, that's not too difficult. They set the bar pretty low. My friends always encouraged me to sing, and sometimes I received quite a few compliments.

What happened next surprised me more than anybody else. It was the words, or it was that Miki sang the song. Most likely it was the truth in the message, a truth that may have been just mine as far as she was concerned. It was because of everything Mike, or Miki, had done for me I could finally spread my wings.

"... Thank you, thank you. Thank God for you, the wind beneath my wings."