We were upstairs with the best seats in the house, just behind the curtains looking directly backstage. They were shuffling their new breasts into tight lycra costumes, feather boas and endless boots. The men pulled down and changed their underwear between sets, not minding or not knowing that we had full view of them in their dressing room. The comediennes went on, teasing the crowd with sexual innuendos and flirty touches, mostly men, mostly Malay, mostly straight and not one minded one bit. A night out is a night out, however camp or playfully sleazy but who's to judge on taste in a place like this. 

She spotted us peeping from above just before their set, and I gave a little wave to our Lady Gaga from backstage before she went on. She tipped her Kanye sunglasses and waved back. 

Labels: Non-Fiction