Great unexpectations

Although she never played bingo nor went to a gay bar nor met a drag queen, Laila celebrated a friend’s graduation playing drag queen bingo at a gay bar.

Life’s theory states that you should always expect the unexpected. In practice however, the unexpected earned its reputation for a reason. It certainly proved so when I got invited to a game of drag queen bingo at a gay bar.

A friend of mine had just graduated from her bachelor’s in Psychology. Naturally, there was no better way to celebrate it than going to a gay bar and playing drag queen bingo. I, having never played bingo nor been to a gay bar nor met a drag queen, took a moment to process that text. But as I was not someone to pass up a moment to learn something new, I heartily agreed.

Unfortunately, on that fateful night of crossing off three of my first’s, I was in a befuddled state of clouded thoughts.

For days prior, my brain had been locked in a box and jangled around with an assortment of questions tied to the ‘early-twenties life crisis’. A carousel of: Will I ever find my person? Can I get a permanent visa in the Netherlands? What about travelling? Should I start going to the gym? Am I doing enough? What? Why? How? Too many things must be left to the unexpected!

In my dazed state, I sat on the corner sofa of the bar and took in my surroundings. The stale air from the bathroom across me. The shocking pink decor that painted the interior from floor to ceiling. The first drag queen I’ve ever met – a queen in a black bob wig, a curly mustache, a leopard print mini dress, and black thigh high boots. I felt underdressed in my pink button up long-sleeved shirt.

As the bingo game started, I felt the dense fog of my thoughts lighten at the rapid onslaught of numbers being announced. When I kept ticking off numbers, I started to feel the giddiness of winning.

But lady luck dealt this beginner an unlucky hand.

I announced bingo too early.

My penalty? Singing karaoke in front of the whole bar. Being tone deaf definitely didn’t help, but justice had to be paid. I shuffled behind the drag queen to the bar while silently cursing my bad luck. I took the mic with a tremor to my grip. But as the first notes of Katy Perry’s Fireworks began to play, I saw the bar crowd encouraging me to push through, and I steeled my will.

So I belted out my lungs. Despite sounding as melodic as a barely pubescent boy, I sang and sang as the disco ball dropped and the queen boogied and woogied next to me. What I thought was a trap set by the unexpected to humiliate me, was really a push toward a brilliant breakthrough.

And at the end of the night, as I marveled at the (of course) hot pink gift card for 8 free shots that I won in the third round, the fog lifted from my head. Maybe the unexpected wasn’t so bad after all, because you never know when you’ll strike bingo.