I remember slurping on backwash
it was after last call
My dress was a couture pattern of stains
from a variety of spilled alcohols..
I clinched me cellphone
but hadn't received a single number to call.
Then I woke up on the sidewalk,
missing one of my brand new 8th street heels
Searched for it in my thriftstore purse
as I stepped in,
what felt like "oatmeal?"
THAT was just the beginning
of the "Kinky Pakistani Cabdriver Ordeal".
The night time city street was swirly
as hundreds of "off-duty" lights trailed by
And although I was hurled over throwing up,
I kept me hand hailed High!
And with vomit on one foot
and God knows what on the other,
I met myself a curry coated lover:
His cab did a U-Turn,
swerved at me through 4 lanes
his light read off-duty
but he said "Nemaste, pretty lady,
I headed your way!"
The front seat was sticky,
smelled like an armpit,
but I sunk into that pleather
and got as comfortable as I could get.
Judge Judy reminded me not to be stupid,
so I did the right thing,
I asked Captain Curry if he had a condom,
"Yes!" he said,
as he showed me his cock ring.
Now I've been with spicy latinos
and Morroccan departees,
never done an Asian,
although I would have done Bruce Lee.
I had sex with a Russian plumber
and even fucked a Hassidic Jew,
I WAS NOT through a hole in a sheet, either,
Had an Irish boyfriend,
used to always passout on top a me.
I'd tasted every flavor of man, I thought,
Except for cab driver curry.
I couldn't pronounce his name
so I just called him BaBa
I marvelled how BaBa drove that cab
while yacking on his cellphone
and fingering my tush.
BaBa sad he knew a place;
the McDonald's drive-thru
and I had my first McQuickie there
and a Happy meal for two.
As the fare-meter hit six dollars
BaBa shouted thanks to Mohhamed
Ganesh ans Allah!
Then I pulled my dress back on, backwards
and wiped smashed McNuggets off my back
and as BaBa drove me home,
I found a french fry in my crack.
He dumped me on the corner
and thank God that ride was free,
cause of course I'd lost my wallet
and my apartment keys.
Luckily I'd hid a spare set,
(this scenario had happened before)
but silly me was too darn drunk
to remember where in the world they were.
I must've passed out
real messy-like on my stoop,
cause I was woken up at noon the next day
by my elderly neighbor
as her six poodles took a group poop.
"I should call the police on you!" she shouted
as she stuffed ziplocs full of turds.
After she let me in the building,
I shot that bitch the bird.
With my lucky nailfile,
I picked open my apartment door
and admired myself in the mirror
with red eyes, swollen
dress on, backwards,
lookin like a one-shoed, bearded, street whore.
a TERRIFYING, but very GLAMOUROUS eyesore.
That must be why the call this drag,
cause sometimes you get dragged through it,
but it really is the only way to do drag,
if you're gonna do it.