Okay, I need to vent if I'm going to get any sleep tonight.
The remains of the waning "Circut" crowd has descended upon Provincetown this week, unfortunately!
Seeing as I work in a local club, I cannot avoid interacting with this glaringly repellent group of people.
I feel like I am being SWALLOWED UP BY A VENUS FLY TRAP ON STEROIDS.
And not in a good way.
I'm working the door, just checking that everyone entering has their wristband.
An honest job.
Doing so I have encountered every single embarrassingly cheap, downright shady queen in this town.
They attempt every and any tired ass trick in the book to skip the cover. Straight up mopping.
The rather entertaining element is that as they enter the club they directly face a wall of mirrors.
I've felt like a behavioral scientist observing the circut boy reaction/interaction with their own reflection.
I am now certain of one thing. VANITY knows NO bounds.
Some, make that most, check the hair and primp it for about 90 seconds (even when wearing a hat). Some glance and slow down as they cross the threshold and their reflection disappears. Some become utterly transfixed and seem unable to keep moving. Some start to dance feverishly with themselves. Some surprisingly scowl at themselves. Some get very, very close to the mirror and actually touch their reflected image lovingly.
Some stare for a while, then turn around and realize I am watching them, panic and scurry away.
That's when I laugh.