At the Theatre Row Diner on 42nd Street on Tuesday, I couldn’t stop listening to the feverish chit chat between two HK queens in the next booth, chewing over the previous night’s antics like hyenas under hair dryers.
Their ditzy bantering was entertaining and mind-numbing at the same time, and I almost got cramps trying to scribble the whole thing down while pretending I was working on something else.
I’ve changed the names to protect the terminally superficial.
Queen 1: Jim wasn’t smiling all night! He was on his phone the whole time! I was like…like..like…
Queen 2: I had fun, but I thought, “I should be cooking dinner.” That will never happen again. Then we got to the Ritz.
Queen 1: Have you met Juan before that?
Queen 2: I met him like five times.
Queen 1: It was so funny to me when I was in the Ritz and I was like…
Queen 2: Oh, that stupid boy!
Queen 1: He was g–ross! It was fun, but like Jeffrey put them like on our body, like I thought it was gonna spill. Like it was in a bottle.
Queen 2: So do Colin and Miguel know about each other?
Queen 1: I mean Colin is stupid.
Queen 2: It wouldn’t be the stupidest thing I’ve done….That naked boy…
Queen 1: The one that sang in Miguel’s show? Colin came up to me and said, “Oh, my God!” I said, “What the hell are you going through?” and he just started laughing at me and walked away.
Queen 2: I went to go and then to the diner, but…
Queen 1: Did you see the magazine with Samantha as Evita Peron? She works for a Broadway costume house, so I guess she paid them to make one for her too. She doesn’t lipsynch, so her show is always like 20 minutes….
Queen 2: Really?
Queen 1: Did you see when she gave me a shout out? [blah blah blah]…Naked boy contest…[blah blah blah]…I wanted to talk about….[blah blah blah] Naked boy….Miguel…Colin….Like, like, like….Naked boy….No, I think we’re…
Queen 2: Yeah.