"And when he does?"

"There's no tellin'. My a.s.s could be out the door."

"What will you do then?"

"Make guest appearances. I can get bookings in Atlanta, Jacksonville, Columbia, Mobile, Montgomery-all those places. The South is one big drag show, honey, and they all know The Lady. They all know The Doll." Chablis looked coyly at me. "So, if I get my a.s.s fired tonight, child, you're gonna have to travel if you wanna see me do my s.h.i.t."

"Then I guess I'd better go to the Pickup tonight," I said.

"I guess you better had, honey."

Chablis touched my arm as we drew up in front of her house. "Look over there," she said. "There's somethin' I wanna show you."

A young blond man was leaning under the hood of an old car. He was stripped to the waist; his muscular torso was smudged with grease and glistening with perspiration. Two boys sat on the curb, watching him work on the car. "That's my boyfriend," said Chablis. "That's Jeff. He's the hunk I told you about. Come, I want you to meet him."

This, then, was the one who, as Chablis had put it, satisfied her every need. It was hard to imagine exactly what those needs might be, harder still to envision what sort of person would satisfy them. Yet, apparently, here he was. By all outward appearances he was normal, even wholesome. He broke into a broad grin when he saw Chablis.

"I think the trouble's in the alternator, Sugar," he said. He wiped his hands on his pants. "I'll get it workin' somehow, and then we can take a spin."

Chablis hooked a finger through his belt and pulled him toward her. She kissed his neck. "It's okay if you can't fix it, baby," she said. "We got us a new chauffeur and limo. Say h.e.l.lo."

Jeff smiled. "Hey," he said, extending his hand. "You better watch yourself, or Chablis is liable to start running your life too. But I guess worse things could happen to you." He slipped his arm around Chablis's waist.

Chablis put her chin on his shoulder and looked into his blue eyes. "You ready for lunch, baby?" she said.

Jeff cupped his hand around her b.u.t.tock and squeezed it. "I already ate," he said.

She leaned into his body. "You know know you ain't done eatin' yet, baby!" you ain't done eatin' yet, baby!"

"Soon as I get this engine running, I'll come in. I promise. You go ahead."

Chablis turned away with a mock pout. "My engine's already runnin', baby, but that's okay. You go play with your car. I'll be havin' lunch with my new chauffeur." She linked her arm in mine. "Come on, child, keep me company."

I was so taken by the situation at this point that I could not muster even a polite refusal. I gave in at once, and in a few moments we were sitting in Chablis's living room having a plate of tuna salad and a gla.s.s of Coca-Cola. The apartment was light and airy and comfortably furnished. The front windows looked out through the foliage of a magnificent oak into the square. There were two matador prints on the wall, a s.h.a.g rug on the floor, and an Aretha Franklin record playing softly on the stereo. From the sofa where she sat, Chablis could look out a side window and see Jeff working on the car in the street below.

"My baby treats me like a G.o.ddess!" she said. "He leaves little notes all over the house sayin' how much he loves me. And I tell you, he is some kinda good up under them covers! The man is out to please, honey, and he does just that to The Doll!" Chablis stirred the ice in her c.o.ke with her finger. "He's straight, you know. He's not gay. He attracts both men and women, but he's only into women. 'Course, my friends say, Well, how can he be straight if he goes with you? And I say, As long as I'm gettin' my fair share, I ain't gonna be askin' why."

She took a sip of her c.o.ke and licked her lips.

"What sort of men do you attract?" I asked.

"That depends what's goin' on with me and my hormone shots. I've gone on them and off them, and they make a big difference. When I'm on them I attract very masculine men-men with girlfriends, men with wives and children. When I go off them for a while, my masculinity comes back a little and I get to feelin' like a tomboy. That's when I attract the gays. Parts of me get excited that usually don't. When I'm in my tomboy mood, watch out, 'Cause I play with everybody, even the nelliest f.a.gs. If I think they're cute, I'm gonna tease and everything. There are times when I can be really butch."

As she said this, Chablis leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees. The cadence in her voice became more clipped, and the muscles in her face tightened. She moved her head and shoulders now with the jauntiness of a boxer. For the first time, the boy inside of her came to the surface.

"But then I go back to Miss Myra, honey," she said, "and I get a hormone refill. I become feminine again, and I attract the masculine men." She settled back into the sofa. The lines in her face softened as I watched, and her body became languid again. The boy vanished. Chablis was Chablis again. She smiled.

"I don't overdo the hormones," she said. "When I get too much of them, I don't climax. So I get off them now and then just to relieve the tension. I don't like to be lifeless down there. I take just enough hormones to give me that feminine glow and keep a chest on me."

Chablis went into the bedroom and came back carrying a black dress and a cigar box full of bugle beads. "You don't mind if I do a little sewin', do you, honey?" She threaded a short string of beads and st.i.tched it to the dress. "A girl's gotta sparkle!" She shook the dress. Hundreds of bugle beads swayed and glittered. She strung some more beads, then looked up from her threading. "Ever put on a dress?"

"No," I said.

"Never even wanted to?"

"No."

"Well, honey, I never wanted to wear anything else! I been into women's clothes so long I have no idea what men's size I am. I'm serious. I gave up on men's clothes when I was sixteen. I started puttin' on makeup and wearin' little earrings to school, and slacks and blouses. For me it was the natural thing to do. I was always effeminate, and I was always called a sissy or a f.a.g or a girl. So I didn't feel I had anything to hide. And I just liked girls' clothes."

"How did your family take all this?" I asked.

"My father and my mother were divorced when I was five. I grew up with my mother, and I would visit my father up north every summer. He hated the way I was. His whole side of the family hated me. When he died, I went to his funeral in a dress, and I had this gorgeous white boy on my arm. They were appalled, honey, they were horrified! Especially my aunt. She started in on me at the funeral in front of everybody, and I told her to get out of my face or I'd say something about her own son she might not want to hear. So I stay away from that side of the family, honey. I don't clientele with them."

"Clientele?"

"Yeah, I don't have anything to do with them. I don't mess with them. Mama's different though. She has a big ol' photograph of me bein' crowned Miss World, and it's Hangin' in her living room. She taught me not to worry about things that don't matter. She has a motto that I love: 'Two tears in a bucket. Motherf.u.c.k it.' That's Mama, she's a okay girl."

Chablis turned up the sound on Aretha Franklin and held the dress up to herself as she stood before a full-length mirror. She churned her hips in time to the music. The beads bounced. "Yayyiss "Yayyiss, honey! When the drums roll, the bugle beads floooowwww! floooowwww! Look at them beads, baby! Look at them beads, baby! Flawless!" Flawless!" She turned toward me again. "You She turned toward me again. "You sure sure you never wanted to put on a dress?" you never wanted to put on a dress?"

"Yes, I'm sure," I said. "What makes you think I would?"

"Oh, nothin'. But you never can tell. That much I've learned, honey! I used to go to straight parties in Atlanta. They'd pay me a hundred dollars. I'd be announced at the door, you know, as Tina Turner or Donna Summer, and then I'd mix with the guests. Everybody knew I was really a drag queen. But I'd look like Tina or Donna, because I'd be wearin' a wig. I'd talk like Cha-blis, though, and I'd have a good time and so would they. Anyway, these gorgeous macho men would come up to me and ask for my phone number, and ooooo! ooooo! I'd go home all excited. Then a couple days later they would call for a date. Well, honey, come to find out most of them really wanted me to dress 'em up in panty hose and walk all over 'em in high-heeled shoes! I'd go home all excited. Then a couple days later they would call for a date. Well, honey, come to find out most of them really wanted me to dress 'em up in panty hose and walk all over 'em in high-heeled shoes!

"So you never can tell, child. You never know. When I see a gorgeous hunk, honey, I don't a.s.sume nothin'. More men are into dresses than you think. Us upfront drag queens is just the tip of the iceberg. Just the teeniest tip!"

"Do you ever feel like going out in the street in a suit and tie?" I asked. "Just for the h.e.l.l of it?"

"If I went out without my drag, honey, those rednecks would clock me for the big sissy I am and kick my a.s.s. I am serious. I'd be more paranoid out of drag than in it. But there's somethin' else that does worry me. Here in Savannah, I mean. Know what it is? walkin' down the street as a couple with a white boy. That That makes me paranoid in Savannah." makes me paranoid in Savannah."

"Don't you ever date blacks? Don't you ever go to black bars?"

"No-no-no. I don't go up in there, child. That's something y'mama don't play. Uh-uh, I don't play up in them black bars, baby. Black boys will hit on you just like that the minute you walk in. They try to make a move on you and 'Hey, Mama!' you and 'Honey' you to death. I don't play that. Black boys are so aggressive, honey. It's nothin' for them to come up and start touchin' you and hittin' on you and stuff, even if you're with somebody.

"Oh, I know black boys have their points, honey. I had a white roommate in Atlanta once, a real girl, and she loved loved black men. You know how those white girls get when they get a piece of black d.i.c.k, honey. Black d.i.c.k will wear you out! It will make you wanna write all your checks." black men. You know how those white girls get when they get a piece of black d.i.c.k, honey. Black d.i.c.k will wear you out! It will make you wanna write all your checks."

Chablis st.i.tched a string of beads onto the dress. "That's just another reason I like my white boys," she said. "Plus, when black boys find out my T, honey, they be ready to kick my a.s.s."

"Your T?"

"Yeah, my T. My thing, my business, what's goin' on in my life."

"You mean, you've dated guys without telling them about yourself?"

"Y-e-e-e-s, honey. And when they find out, they either kick my a.s.s or they wanna love love me. They reach down there to feel somethin' soft and wet, and they feel somethin' else that ain't so soft and ain't so wet. Know what I mean?" me. They reach down there to feel somethin' soft and wet, and they feel somethin' else that ain't so soft and ain't so wet. Know what I mean?"

"Then what happens?"

"One black guy put a gun to my head. We'd partied for hours, and he'd spent lots of money on me and showed me off to all his friends and everything. At the end of the night we went home and was lyin' in bed just huggin' and kissin' fully clothed, and he kept wantin' to touch me down there, and I kept sayin' no-no-no. And he kept sayin', 'Why won't you let me touch you down there?' And I said, 'I promise you, you don't want to be touchin' me down there, child.' And we went back to huggin' and kissin' again, and then he finally caught me off guard and touched me down there. And before I knew it, he pulled a gun and put it to my head. He said, 'I'll kill you, you sonofab.i.t.c.h! I'll f.u.c.kin' blow your d.a.m.n brains out! You made a big fool out of me!' I told him n.o.body knew nothin'. I said, 'You didn't even know, and you were the closest thing to me, so let's just leave it at that. We had a good time, child, and if you're gonna blow my brains out, go ahead and blow 'em out and get it over with and get that gun out of my face because you're scarin' me to death.' When I made that comment he laughed. And he said, 'I'll admit I've had more fun with you than I've had with any b.i.t.c.h. I'm gonna let you slide this time. But you better not pull that s.h.i.t with n.o.body else or you're gonna get hurt.' That's why I don't play up in them black bars, honey. I don't need no gun to my head."

"What do white men do when they find out about your T?" I asked.

"Jeff didn't know when he first met me. I was in this straight club. I had gone there with a bunch of my girlfriends. One of my roommates was a stripper-she was a real girl-and she would do her strip show and I would do my drag show, and then we'd meet and go out to the straight bars and have a good time. I was just sittin' at the bar havin' my c.o.c.ktail and smokin' my cigarette, and I saw Jeff. He was tall and blond and gorgeous, and he just kept watchin' me. I said to myself, 'No, Chablis, don't even try. Don't mess with this straight man, 'Cause this man is too tall. He will wrap you in a knot, girl!' He sent a drink over, and I just nodded and thanked him. Then he came over and we started talkin'. He asked me to dance, and we danced. My girlfriends saw him and they all wanted to trade boys with me. Later we all went to my place and sat around and got high all night. Everybody was coupled off, just layin' on their boyfriends, but there was no s.e.x at all. When Jeff got ready to leave, he asked for my phone number, and I gave it to him. I'd forgotten he didn't know, because I was carryin' on, sayin' 'Miss Thing!' Thing!' and 'Yeah, and 'Yeah, girl!' girl!' So it didn't even occur to me he didn't know. He called the next day and asked me to go out. So it didn't even occur to me he didn't know. He called the next day and asked me to go out.

"It was so romantic. I bought a new dress, and we went to a ballroom that had a live band. Afterward, we went back to my place and started kissin'. I realized I had to tell him, but I decided not to do it till the next night. Well, the next night he took me to a basketball game, and I ran into one of my old boyfriends. This old boyfriend was the insanely jealous type, which is why I had to leave him in the first place. So he started a bunch of s.h.i.t, sayin', 'That's a drag queen you're with.' And that's how Jeff found out. He was so hurt he just walked off and left me there. I didn't hear from him for a week. Then he called me. He said he wasn't into men. I said, 'I'm not a man, b.i.t.c.h, don't call me no man!' Then he asked me, 'Well, what do you got between your legs?' I said, 'That's for me to know and for you to find out.' So he said, 'Well, whatever you are, I like you. I can't get you off my mind, and as long as we can be friends, I want to see you again.'

"I said that was fine with me. So he started comin' on my job and watchin' me do shows, and he got hooked. After a while, we started having s.e.x, and we became lovers. I even went to see his parents. They live out on the southside. They're Baptists, honey, and they thought I was Jeff's girlfriend Chris. I had Thanksgiving dinner with them and Christmas too, and they liked me and had no earthly idea. But after a few months, they realized I was not just a pa.s.sing fling. Their son was really in love with me. That's when they had a problem: I was black. They started watchin' me very closely. I could feel it. They were lookin' to catch my a.s.s in the slightest mistake. I really had to be on my guard. Then one time they acted very strangely toward me. They were givin' me funny looks, child. I could tell somethin' was wrong. Jeff's mama got me alone after dinner. She said, 'Chris, let's you and me just sit here in the living room and have a little talk.' Honey, the ol' girl was nervous as a cat.

"She said, 'Chris, there's something I've been wondering about. It's something that I know is very private with you, and I respect your privacy. But my son is involved with you, and I have to know. I want you to answer me truthfully.' Well, child, my heart nearly stopped. I looked around just to check out where the door was, in case I had to get outta there real fast. Then she said, 'Tell me. Honestly. Are you pregnant?'

"Well, I was so relieved. For the first time in my life I didn't have an answer. My mouth dropped open, and I grabbed my stomach. When I did that, she screamed and ran out of the room.

"I just sat there for a while, not knowin' what to do. I could hear all kinds of carryin' on at the other end of the house. I sat there alone for about ten minutes. Then Jeff walked in with the cutest little grin on his face. He said, 'Okay, Sugar. Everything's fine. Let's go.'

"When we got outside, he was still grinnin', and I said, 'What the h.e.l.l was goin' on in there? For a minute I thought your mama found out my T.' Jeff put his arm around me. 'Whatever you said, baby, you said it right. Look what we got!' Child, he pulled out the biggest wad of money I ever saw. He had eight one-hundred-dollar bills! 'It's from Dad,' he said. 'To pay for your abortion.'"

Chablis clapped her hands. "I took the money them white folks gave us to murder their unborn grandchild, and I bought that color TV sittin' over there and that videoca.s.sette player too. And with what was left over, I went out and got me the raunchiest little sequined dress I could find, so in case they ever do find out who I am, I can shake my a.s.s in their face and tell them, 'Thanks from the bottom of our interracial baby's dead little heart!'"

Chablis got up and went over to the window. "Ain't you finished yet, honey?" she called. Jeff looked up from the street below. He was standing in front of the car. The two boys sat in the front seat, gunning the engine. He made a V sign. "Be there in a second," he said.

Chablis turned back from the window. "Y-e-e-e-s, child! That abortion was some kinda good. I toyed with the idea of takin' Jeff's folks to court for attempted f.u.c.kin' murder. If you pay to have somebody spiked, honey, that's attempted murder, ain't it?"

"Could be," I said, "under the right circ.u.mstances."

"Well, I didn't do it, 'Cause I didn't want to hurt Jeff. And also 'Cause I wasn't finished with them two motherf.u.c.kers. No, baby! Six months later, we went back and convinced them I was pregnant all over again. That got us another eight hundred, which paid for a few more gowns and a flawless flawless weekend up in Charleston. But that's gotta be the last of it. If we try it again, it'll dawn on them that it would be cheaper just to pay somebody to shoot me and throw me off the Talmadge Bridge." weekend up in Charleston. But that's gotta be the last of it. If we try it again, it'll dawn on them that it would be cheaper just to pay somebody to shoot me and throw me off the Talmadge Bridge."

Chablis put the dress aside and closed the cover on the bugle-bead box. "I don't see my in-laws anymore. But Jeff and me are closer than ever. Someday, he'll go back to wantin' girls, but I'm prepared for that. I just don't want him to leave me and go to a guy. I want him to go back to girls. If he goes to a guy, I'd feel awful bad. I dated one guy, and when we broke up he started goin' with men. That hurt me so bad, and he couldn't understand why. I tried to tell him: I'm a woman. Treat me that way, it's the way I treat myself. I want a man who wants a woman, not a man who wants a man."

Jeff appeared in the doorway.

"Well, thank goodness," Chablis said. "I was gettin' tired of waitin' on you. Another minute, and I was gonna start hittin' on my new chauffeur. I am some kinda ready for you, baby." Jeff lifted one of her feet and removed her sandal. She lay back on the sofa. "'Cause Miss Myra's shots are startin' to kick in, honey," she said softly. He ma.s.saged her bare foot and stared into her eyes. "M-m-m-m-m. Y-e-e-e-s, baby," she said.

I got up quietly and took my leave. As I closed the door behind me, I could hear Chablis murmuring. "Yes, child. Yaaaayyiss, baby! M-m-m-m-m-m-m!"

The Pickup occupied a loft building on Congress Street. I could hear the thump-thump-thump thump-thump-thump of disco music as I approached the club's front door. Inside, a short-haired woman wearing jeans and a work shirt sat on a stool chatting with a uniformed policeman. A handwritten sign on the wall read $15 of disco music as I approached the club's front door. Inside, a short-haired woman wearing jeans and a work shirt sat on a stool chatting with a uniformed policeman. A handwritten sign on the wall read $15 MEMBERSHIP MEMBERSHIP FEE, but she waved me in without taking any money. FEE, but she waved me in without taking any money.

The ground floor had a long, dimly lit bar and a dance floor with flashing lights and booming music. The place was crowded with young men in casual but, for the most part, conservative attire. A poster by the entrance announced the featured appearance of The Lady Chablis for two shows, at eleven o'clock and one. The three-dollar admission charge was collected by a thin man who wore a baseball cap over his stringy waist-length hair. "The overture's already started," he said.

The room upstairs was a narrow, low-ceilinged s.p.a.ce with a bar at one end and a small stage and runway at the other. A revolving mirrored ball hung from the ceiling. About fifty people, including a number of couples, were taking their seats amid the din of the recorded overture-a scratchy, fast-paced medley of Broadway tunes played at extremely high volume in order to drown out the dis...o...b..at from below. As the overture ended, the room went black. The beat shifted to the pulsating rhythms of Natalie Cole's "Jump Start."

A spotlight hovered over the stage and then dipped. Chablis suddenly burst into view, looking like raging fire in a skimpy sequined dress with jagged red, yellow, and orange flamelike fringes hanging from it. She wore huge earrings and a wig of long black curls. The audience cheered as she strutted down the runway, working every nuance of the rhythm, shaking her behind like a pom-pom, whipping it from side to side. She looked over her shoulder with an expression of supreme sa.s.siness. She was a minx, a temptress. She danced superbly, mouthing the words to the song and smiling as if tasting something delicious. The look in her eyes was lighthearted and outrageous. It seemed to say: If you thought that last b.u.mp was vulgar, honey, watch this this one! One by one, her fans rose out of the audience and moved to the edge of the runway. They held out dollar bills folded lengthwise. Chablis accepted their offerings without missing a beat, taking the money in her hands or allowing them the campy pleasure of slipping it into her cleavage. As the song came to an end, she exited to cheers and whistles and stomping feet. one! One by one, her fans rose out of the audience and moved to the edge of the runway. They held out dollar bills folded lengthwise. Chablis accepted their offerings without missing a beat, taking the money in her hands or allowing them the campy pleasure of slipping it into her cleavage. As the song came to an end, she exited to cheers and whistles and stomping feet.

In a moment, Chablis's crackling voice came over the loudspeaker. "Hey, b.i.t.c.hes!" she said.

Members of the audience called back, "Hey, b.i.t.c.h!"

Chablis returned to the stage carrying a microphone in her hand. She was dabbing perspiration from her neck and chest. "Ooooo, child! I am sweatin', honey! I truly am. And I'm not ashamed of it either. I want all you white folks to see how hard I'm workin' for you."

She wriggled as the audience cheered.

"I need another napkin, honey! Who's gonna give me one? Whoever gives me a napkin wins a prize, and I ain't sayin' what that prize is until you win it." A napkin was handed up from the audience. "Thank you, baby. You are a true gentleman. Yes, you are, honey. I am serious! And you win the prize. You get to eat my p.u.s.s.y for the rest of my life. Okay?"

The audience howled.

"Yes, honey. I am sweatin', but I'm gonna have to slow down soon. If I don't, the doctor says I'm gonna have me another miscarriage. Yes, honey, I am with child again! My due date is gettin' closer, and my young'un is droppin' lower and lower. It's tough dancin' in this heat when you're pregnant, you know. Have you ever tried it? Try gettin' pregnant, like me, and then come up here and dance, honey. Child, you'll be wore out! Are my feet swellin'? Can you see 'em? Are they swellin'? You know how your mama's did when she was pregnant with you? Do my feet look that way?"

The audience cried out, "No!"

"I hope not, child, 'Cause your mama had some ugly feet when she was carryin' you." Hoots and whistles from the audience. "Just kiddin'," she said.

"I got a business deal to offer all you white boys. My husband's folks won't pay for no more abortions, and we're gettin' hard up for cash. Take me home to meet your mama and daddy, and tell them I am pregnant with your baby and see how fast they come up with the money. I'll split it with you fifty-fifty. You don't think they'd do it? Guess again, honey. My husband's daddy is a Baptist minister, and he's paid for it twice already. That's ma.s.s murder, child. I am serious!"

Chablis walked farther out toward the end of the runway, but after a few steps, the microphone cord snagged and stopped her short. She tugged at it, but it would not come any farther. She turned toward the D.J.'s booth. "Michael! Miss Thing!" She tugged again. "Miss Thing, you ain't fixed this cord yet?" She looked to the audience. "Now I ask you. Wouldn't you think Burt, the man that owns this d.a.m.n club, would fix this cord so I could come all the way out into the audience and be closer to you? So I could touch you? So you could get those extra vibes?"

A chorus of scattered yeahs came from the audience.

"If y'all can't do better than that, you can take your d.a.m.n tired a.s.ses on home. I'm serious. Now lemme hear you holler, 'Yeah, b.i.t.c.h!'"

"Yeah, b.i.t.c.h!"

"Must be somethin' wrong with my ears, child. I didn't hear nothin'."

"YEAH, b.i.t.c.h!"

"That's better. Y-e-e-e-s, child! Now I can feel your presence." Chablis ran her hand down the side of her dress and shimmied. "Yes, I can feel you are here, child, even if I can't reach out and touch you the way I usually do and would would do right now if it weren't for this sorry-a.s.s cord." do right now if it weren't for this sorry-a.s.s cord."

Whistles and catcalls.

"Maybe Burt thinks I'll break down and get it fixed myself. Do you think I should? Do you? No way, baby! I ain't givin' up my coins for no cord, honey. Y'mama's gonna be shoppin' for gowns! gowns! Give me any length of cord you got, and I will play with her. Yes, girl. Long or short, I will play with your cord. Whatever size it Give me any length of cord you got, and I will play with her. Yes, girl. Long or short, I will play with your cord. Whatever size it eeee eeeeyiz, honey. 'Cause y'mama's gonna start actin' like the heteros.e.xual pregnant white woman she is and keep her f.u.c.kin' money in her pocket!" The audience cheered. Chablis undulated in place. "Just kiddin', honey," she purred.

"Okay, gang, I want to thank you for coming tonight. If I offended anyone, two tears in a bucket, honey. Motherf.u.c.k it. Yes, child. We have a wonderful show lined up for you. We have a whole bevy of beautiful b.i.t.c.hes, so I want you to put your hands together now and welcome to the stage, the-" Chablis looked down at a man and a woman sitting at a table by the edge of the runway.

"You two have been neckin' and carryin' on all through my number! No-no-no, that's all right, baby, I don't mind. Get it while you can, honey! But tell me somethin', girl, is he your husband or your boyfriend? He is? Well, I think I should tell you, him and me has been f.u.c.kin' since Christmastime. Yes, honey. He is the father of my baby. That's right, child. Where y'all from? Hilton Head! And what does the father of my baby do besides f.u.c.k real good? A lawyer! Ooooo, my young'un's gonna have a rich daddy! When you become a lawyer, honey, you get to have all that stuff after your name, don't you. Like 'Esquire.' And 'Attorney-at-Law.' I don't need n.o.body tellin' me about lawyers, child. You get messed up with reefer and the cops, honey, and you gonna know Esquires and Attorney-at-Laws. You gonna know lawyers. But your wife don't get none of that s.h.i.t after her name, does she? She just gets to carry the baby, huh? Well, let me tell you something, child: I get something better after my my name. I get applause, honey. And people yellin' 'Hey, b.i.t.c.h!'" name. I get applause, honey. And people yellin' 'Hey, b.i.t.c.h!'"

Chablis slinked along the runway as the audience cheered, "Hey, b.i.t.c.h!"

"And I get somethin' even better than that comin' after my a.s.s," a.s.s," she said. "I get some she said. "I get some fine fine stuff comin' after my a.s.s, child! I bet all you b.i.t.c.hes wish you did too, don't you?" Chablis looked into the spotlight. "Miss Thing! Shine the light over there." Chablis pointed in my direction, and in a moment I was blinded by the spotlight. stuff comin' after my a.s.s, child! I bet all you b.i.t.c.hes wish you did too, don't you?" Chablis looked into the spotlight. "Miss Thing! Shine the light over there." Chablis pointed in my direction, and in a moment I was blinded by the spotlight.

"I want y'all to meet my new chauffeur!" she said. "Yes, child. My new white chauffeur, honey! He drives y'mama's black a.s.s all over Savannah. Soon as he learns how to drive a little better, honey, we be gettin' a Rolls-Royce! That's right. Nothin's too good for The Lady! I am serious. Nothin's too good for The Doll. Okay, Miss Thing, that's enough with the light! Bring the light back to Mama! Thanks, honey. Now, I want y'all to enjoy the show. Have a good time. And don't let me catch none of you b.i.t.c.hes layin' a hand on my new chauffeur. 'Cause if I catch you, child, you will have Chablis to deal with. That's right, honey. Me and my icepick." Chablis turned and undulated back up the runway. When she reached the curtain, she looked back over her shoulder and whispered into the microphone. "Just kiddin', honey!"

Chablis was followed by Julie Rae Carpenter, who was a foot taller and at least eighty pounds heavier. A curly-headed blonde, Julie Rae had a dimpled smile and wore a bright blue, ill-fitting taffeta dress that you could tell, from the puckered st.i.tching, was homemade. She skipped and bounced and twice flung herself spread-eagle against the back wall for dramatic effect, but she did it without a hint of irony-and without a clue how embarra.s.sing it was to watch her. About a dozen members of the audience gave Julie Rae tips. An equal number got up and left. As I sat watching her, a waiter in a floppy straw hat tapped me on the knee. "Chablis asked me to bring you backstage," he said.

He led me around to a cramped dressing room shared by all the members of the show. They were adjusting their hair and makeup at a long dressing table. Chablis was wearing only panty hose. She caught my reflection in the mirror. "Hey, honey!" she said. "I hope you ain't mad at me after what I done to you out there, shinin' that light in your face and talkin' dirty and all."

"We're still friends," I said.

"That's good, honey. But I guess that lawyer from Hilton Head won't be comin' back soon. I was watchin' him the whole time, talkin' and neckin' with his fish while I was doin' my number, and, honey, I will not take that! Lucky for him he backed down when I got into his s.h.i.t about it. 'Cause if he hadn't, I woulda got meaner." Chablis removed her wig and combed her natural hair into a pompadour. "I've gone as far as taken off my shoe and hit people over the head. To prove to them that, you know, don't let this dress fool you. Last weekend in Valdosta, a girl was talkin' real loud, and when I started in on her, she threw a beer at me. She was one of those real mean lesbians, honey; she was a pit-bull d.y.k.e. But what she failed to realize was that there was a whole pitcher of beer sittin' on her table. I baptized the b.i.t.c.h, honey! I baptized the b.i.t.c.h!"

"Well, how did your boss like being called a cheapskate?" I asked.