by J.D. Oxblood
Miss Coney Island Plays Favorites!
September 8, 2011
Sideshow by the Seashore, Coney Island, Brooklyn
I have an embarrassing confession to make: I’ve never actually been to the Miss Coney Island pageant. I know—I suck. I love Coney Island, but I’m more easily seduced by the Mermaid Parade. There’s something almost depressing about stepping off the subway at Coney and finding it already dark, swimming upstream as everyone ELSE is drunkenly boarding the trains to go home, waving half-eaten corndogs and half-bags of spun sugar. The final Cyclone car squeals to a stop in the distance, and it’s like, “Man, we MISSED it!”
Whatevs—that’s just Goodbye Kitty singin’ the blues. Through gentle cajoling—and not-so-gentle-reminders—I was convinced to pop my sappy ass down to the darkened bunker of beer-only and no-buy-backs commonly known as the Sideshow Bar and saddle up on a wood bench to see the adorable almost-former Miss Coney Island Lefty Lucy rock it out with her smocks out one last time before surrendering the crown. To, as it turns out, fellow Epic Win-er BB Heart. So ya got that in-the-family thing working.
Let it not go unsaid that Lefty was SUCH a stellar MCI, Bambi is keeping her on “staff” so to speak, and she will continue to liaison in the future. In Lefty’s publicist’s own words: “Lefty Lucy’s crown legacy will be remembered as a time when the Cyclone ran on time, the beach was maintained at the proper level of authentic griminess and there was a Nathan’s hot dog in every pot.” No one put a Nathan’s in MY pot. Not yet, anyway.
Well, I did indulge in a chili cheez dog, took a sip from my flask, and went into the fray, where we were greeted by the gogo stylings of Sizzle Dizzle. The riDONKulous gogo stylings of Sizzle Dizzle. From tap to mime, from funny to hot, girlfriend was workin’ it and getting’ huge whoops from the slap-happy peanut gallery suffering the sweltering heat. Enter the inimitable Miss Astrid, in a sundress. I had to look twice. A cute sundress? With—tulips??? Wait a minute… is Astrid getting soft on us? Wait a minute… is she… preggars? Yuuup. So she says, anyway, and I’m not gonna argue with her. You thought Frances Bean had it rough… let’s pray for the best and hope that kid don’t pop out with an eyepatch.
The show itself was like listening to a wonderful greatest hits album from your favorite band. For me, my favorite band is Hot Chicks Strip For Me, and opens with Minnie Tonka going from ZZ Top drag to ass-flossing with a neck tie.
Starwipe to Lefty Lucy in a skool girl skirt and white lace thigh highs, being terrified by Sizzle in a weak Halloween mask. They hear it coming and run screaming… that’s right, Jo Boobs brought the Godzilla head, and when we get to the chorus (y’all know I’m talkin’ ‘bout the BOC, right?) Lefty and Sizzle come back on to do back-ups. Love it.
BB Heart comes on hidden by fans and peeks over, showing us that she’s sporting a brunette wig, lending her a bafflingly different look—super wow factor. The music is “Perhaps” en Espanol, the costume a glaring gold, and after a big clam shell the fans are up, the music slam shifts into fourth gear, and BB is shaking it like a dervish on crystal to a quick-quick Mambo, and the shutter snaps are nonstop. There was no chance to breath from the twirls and pelvic thrusts timed to the beat to the grinds and big twirling finish. Breathless. No wonder she took the crown a week later.
Little Brooklyn did her commedia clown to “Minnie the Moocher,” an act I haven’t seen since the Corio days. There’s just something so wonderful about how Brooklyn can go from a startled, expectant look that quickly disappears into freneticism. Her clown is clearly schizophrenic. The ending is masterful, as she finds herself naked, is shocked to be naked, and then embraces it as the crowd (recorded and otherwise) hoots and howls for her, and the winding music gives rise to whirling tassels.
Gal Friday has to poop, but we all knew that—this is the “Constipation Blues” and no one does facial expressions quite like Gal, especially those of intense bowel movements. Look at this gesture of abandon, though, riiiiping off her dress as she faces upstage, pulling it across her back. So hot. And then right back into the bit, straining (with the music) while struggling with a bra strap.
Julie Atlas Muz. Cop turned criminal. Donut eating rapper. I’m so tired of writing about this act. I just want to watch it eight hundred more times. Or maybe get kidnapped by her at the end a couple more times.
But damnit, we all came to see Lefty Lucy, and she does not disappoint. A cloaked figure creeps into view with a cane, and crosses behind the curtain set up center stage. Spooky music, fog. Blackout. Lefty on the stage in blonde curls and a mustache as ringmaster. Blackout. Lefty in fishnets and a black corset with an umbrella. Blackout. And really, this is like a strobe light the changes are so quick—I’m starting to worry about MY schizophrenia acting up. Lefty in a commedia mask and white shorts. Strobe light. Lefty wigless, rocking tassels and a cute box, works some hula hoop. Flash. A cloaked figure exits slowly. Somewhere, I suspect, Dr. Flux is sweating his motherfucking ass off.
All the girls lined up to give Gal Friday the spanking machine, since it was her birthday. As she crawled through, she kept stopping. I‘m not sayin’, I’m just sayin’.
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