This was the first time I'd seen her in anything but that trademark snagged silver and black Foxy Lady Boutique dress-ever. The house was ecstatic. Once the crowd had calmed a bit Kiki led into her first real story of the night, one they had alluded to when we spoke the day before. Some people don't like that word these days, and would prefer specially-abled or mentally handicapped but that word is ours. We reclaim it, kinda like black people do with the word nigger.
Kids can be so cruel.
Then it goes even further and as Kiki takes you there to the tragedy of Herbs multiple rape, the pain and anguish and shame and horror comes forth on Herbs face as he plays the piano with the force of his attackers penetration from behind, thrusting the pain forward, hips smashing against the piano, pain rushing through keys and into the notes, twisting and pounding his body in a way Jerry Lee Lewis never did and Little Richard wanted to. I noted that Herb had become far more of an expressive character than merely an accompanist in New York. In fact-the bond between Kiki and Herb seems to be the area where the most change and development has taken place. This was impressive, and like just about every queer male in the house, it turned me way the fuck on. Sometimes an artist will do a cover song in such a way that it changes forever your memory of it, you'll never hear it again without hearing it as you heard it performed that certain time.