Sissy Girl Slap Party

Daddy Robe
Originally uploaded by Violet Chrome.

So you return to the uber-swank hotel room that you and Coco have agreed was designed for a rich Daddy and his posse of Toms of Finland.

The glass shower is just begging to be filled with half-naked boys dancing around, slapping each other, and letting out shrill girly “ouches” (you imagine the sweet slappy boys of Guy Maddin’s short film Sissy Boy Slap Party as your entertainment.

You dawn the white robes provided by W Hotel. They have weights in the hem, the rich fabric swooshing around you making you feel like an international man of intrigue, power and sex (the pockets just begging for crisp 20 bills, lubricant and candy). You flop your bellies on the 350 thread-count duvet bed, replete with a faux fur blanket, to stare and ponder the pristine white bathroom calling out: dirtier, dirtier.

You and Coco take turns pulling swigs from a bottle of white wine and casually discuss calling the front desk and ordering up three 5-star men. Hey, they look so bored standing around the lobby; you’re just positive that they’d love to be your entertainment (what man doesn’t secretly want to strip down and dance for a lady making luxuriously naughty demands of his mind, body and soul?)

You discuss the male posture, in particular, the rich Daddy posture. Coco decides to walk like a man, so she eases herself off the rim of the hootch juice and saunters through the room, her imaginary cahonas making her swagger like Clint Eastwood chomping a wet stoagie and heaving a satchel full of contraband gold like its fairy dust. You both agree that it is satisfying to pretend to colonize and own such decadent space.

Coco Shoes
Originally uploaded by Violet Chrome.

You make the mistake of looking out the window. One of the Boys Who Stand ‘Round (aka “Google Eyes”) sees you… you think... but then you’re not too sure. Maybe it always seems like he’s looking at you: he has google eyes after all. Coco and you agree that google eyes make him the best Bouncer ever… you always thinks he’s got his eye on you.

I decide to obsess on Google Eyes for a spell. Not only does he have google eyes, but he also has an amazingly small pinhead. It looks like he has this “big man” suit on and there’s this skinny man’s head sticking out… and the head is bobbing around like its on a spring.

Suddenly the Coco/Daddy espies a high heel in the corner of the room. She pounces on it: it’s beautiful; it’s rich; it’s beautiful being a woman. You ponder lines for a time.

Fluffy Cloud
Originally uploaded by Violet Chrome.

You fall on the floor laughing at the Daddy décor, and you, two bitches, sullying it.

You agree that the Velvet Design mafia has done up the whole hotel: one design fag calling up his buddy to say, “listen Mary, I’ve got this fabulous gig designing the drapes for Montreal’s Hotel W. You just have to jet down from Ibiza to work with us. We need your experience with beds, floors, and showers. Cause you know, girl, you've been face down on more surfaces than Mr. Clean himself.”

God—you are so done with the weight of the robes. It's Ms. Dress-Up time.

Coco, belly down on the floor, flips over and straight-serious, gestures to the corner of the room, and says in her best WASP-voice: “Oh, did your friend design this?”

You take time out for bouncing on the bed. You decide that going down the hall for ice is an adventure-trek. You come back to fill the sink with ice. You use all the shower products to make a foot bubble bath. You fall asleep in a fluffy duvet cloud.