French Cup: A Neighborhood Story

Chapter 10: -Kazuya- King D*ldo

"Nooooo," Nikki let out a guttural growl. He covered his face with his purple opera length gloved hands, his favorite bright green faux fur coat adorning him, tight leopard print capris on, and cherry red platform heels. His bright pink wig further covered his face as he leaned forward in grief at the absolute monster that Prin, the owner of Pinky Books, had just set down in my kitchen. We'd seen him come in the door with it, and our jaws had not yet been scraped off the floor.

"You don't like my baby?" He asked in a happy purr, stroking the box of the enormous flesh toned dildo that was advertised as the "King America" proudly on it with fireworks all around it. The box was about half as tall as he was. 

"What the hell is it?" Nikki pointed accusingly. 

"Nobody was adventurous enough to buy it. The price is pretty, too, so. You're lucky you get to have it for bingo. I was sad to see it go." He further petted the box affectionately. "Came all the way from America. I thought somebody would like it. People like all kinds of things."

Even Nikki seemed like he was changing his opinion, giving it second and third glances. 

"You don't understand." I was trying so hard not to pull on my dress, a beautiful creation of Miyuki's, a white organdy dress with printed cherries all over it with an off the shoulder neckline in 50's style, the skirt of Dior's New Look. My matching red heels clip clopped on the floor as I walked forward, a lock of my 1950's styled, ginger colored wig around my finger in my nervousness. "There's going to be this really hot- nice guy in the audience who we want to impress."

"Oh, him?" Prin walked over to my work table, now covered in all the prizes for bingo. The assortment was... Nikki's begging of asking what people were doing to us said it all. Each time was met with laughter, and the neighborhood seemed to be trying to one up each other this time, as if they knew what was at stake. Prin grinned, his deep crow's feet showing. "He came to my shop. He bought a..." His eyebrows raised teasingly. "I can't reveal it. I don't talk about my customers."

"HE BOUGHT A WHAT?!" Nikki burst out, running to Prin. "Oh my god, Prin, could he actually be alright?" He turned to me. "Maybe we misjudged him. Maybe he's alright."

My hands went into fists and then relaxed, straining my white lace, wrist length gloves. Could it be? Blush was rising to my cheeks again.

"Oh, when he held it in his hands," Prin sighed, smiling, obviously remembering such a sweet memory. He shook his head. "He's too young for me."

"Prin, you're kind of committed," Nikki laughed, doing a little twirl in happiness and hope.

"Oh, you're right. I forgot," Prin laughed. "That guy that I've been with for twenty years. You mean him? Right." He chuckled again and scratched his head. "Well, I'm going to go out there, get a good seat. Grab some stew. Smells great out there. Always smells great, but you know."

I nodded, knowing what he meant. I loved Drag Bingo night, too, but tonight was special. I usually was never nervous, knowing I was going out among friends. But, any minute, Gyeong-Wan might show up. I wouldn't know until I got out there, and that was show time. There he'd be in the audience. What kind of expression would be on his face? Would he take one step inside and then go right back? 

Nikki's hand landed on my shoulder. His makeup was candy colored 90's, a dazzling display of glittery lip gloss and pastel colored eyeshadow. "Ready, Amelie?" He asked, using my drag name. 

"Ready," I said. I'd have to be. I pointed at the literal elephant in the room and his eyes followed my finger. "Who's going to carry that out there?" The giant dildo box sat on the floor, too big to fit on the table with the other prizes.

Nikki put out his fist with his hand under it. "Jan ken pon," he offered, his super skinny drawn on eyebrows raising. 

Japanese style rock, paper, scissors.

"Fuck. Okay," I said, steeling myself. 

I put out my own fist, and our hands bounced three times together as we chanted "jan ken pon."