Perfect Propriety is everywhere, even in environments some consider Not At All Perfectly Proper — like drag brunch. For the uninitiated, drag brunch is a midday entertainment in a restaurant or bar* featuring a succession of performers dressed in drag — so many sequins before 5:00 PM! — singing and/or lip-synching with big energy and commanding attention and Wigs of Breathtaking Self-Importance. Resistance is futile, so take a tip or two from Etiquetteer to ease your assimilation:
Audience participation is unavoidable. Join in with the proper spirit(s). This is not the sort of brunch you go to when you want a relaxed vibe with friends. The performers are moving among all the tables almost all the time, and there are frequent admonitions to “make some noise” or sing along if you know the words**. People go expecting a rowdy good time with a sequined side of sass. Your attention will be focused on who’s performing at any given moment. Embrace that.
Bring small bills; tipping is expected. The late Donna Summer was not wrong when she sang “She works hard for the money, so you better treat her right.” Tipping is part of the Total Entertainment Experience of drag brunch — Etiquetteer never knew anyone could accept a bill with their teeth — so save yourself some trouble and change those twenties for ones and fives before you get there. (Bonus points for the manager who circulated among the tables before showtime offering to change large bills.) Etiquetteer did witness some balling up of singles to throw them several feet to be caught (or not), but the more traditional method is to extend your hand holding an unfolded bill or fan of bills. If Accounts Receivable was like this, more companies would get their bills paid on time.
Accessorize for protection. The organizer of Etiquetteer’s party brought some large folding fans for people to use; they made a satisfying snap when closed, so a good noisemaker when the voice gives out. A fan also makes handy armor if you open it completely and hold it under your chin. It barricades your torso and tipping arm from undue attention. The organizer also brought, and wore, some marvelous bling, explaining “I believe one needs to accessorize to represent ‘camp culture,’ support the performers, or simply join the spirit of sequins and sparkle.”
Never attempt to upstage the performers. It’s their show, and they’ll let you know it.
Always obey your drag queen. When she says “Make some noise,” you make some noise! When she says “If you know the words, sing along,” you fake it ‘til you make it. When she says “Get up and dance,” you . . . well, you use your own judgment and see what else is happening on the floor. More than a few people are petrified by the idea of being singled out by a performer, whether it’s a drag queen or a standup comic, and Etiquetteer respects that. If you’re receiving unwelcome attention from a performer, just sit there and don’t react, and don’t leave your seat if they attempt to pull you up, They’ll eventually leave you to find a more willing partner. They can’t slow down the show’s energy by waiting on you to give a reaction you clearly won’t.
Whatever you do, never jeopardize Mademoiselle’s makeup. Etiquetteer is not even going to tell you how that nearly happened.
If you don’t feel you can participate at that level — indeed, if you can’t muster that much energy before noon in the first place — drag brunch may not be for you***. But as Kahlil Gibran so memorably observed in The Prophet, “. . . you will laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.” Etiquetteer wishes you joy at the brunch of your choice, and enough singles to leave everyone happy.
*But not necessarily. One of the performers had some saucy suggestions for alternative retail venues.
**This is not your grandma’s sing-along.
***Indeed, the other side of the coin could have been the late Mabel Mercer early in her career at Bricktop’s in Paris, singing at and to individual tables. “At Bricktop’s, Mercer was often asked to join guests at their tables and sing for them—she is said to have sung Cole Porter’s songs to him while sitting beside him at his table. From this point forward, Mercer sang sitting down, even when performing on stage to a larger audience,” according to the Yale Archives. This entertainment training led her to her peculiarly intimate way of communicating a lyric. (More here in the James Haskins biography.)