Girls' Night Out

The boys of She-Dick don their fake boobs, drag names and lady detective personas

Wow. Surreal.

Donning street-savvy attire, Nasty surprises us with an announcement, "This is going to be kind of renegade because I don't have a permit," and we head out to the street for a photo shoot. After I decide who my first call will be from jail, the band goes all Donna Summer "Bad Girls" against a light pole. A cop passes by but is either unknowing about permit allowances or doesn't care. So much for my stint in jail.

It's a bit unusual to watch the future pop icons lugging around photography equipment, but as Gloria says, "We're big girls. We can handle it." And with that, we go for a drink across the street at minc.

Hot beats and fake teats: the members of She-Dick
Teresa Nasty
Hot beats and fake teats: the members of She-Dick
She-Dick proves the only thing hotter than fishnet hose is a fishnet shirt.
Teresa Nasty
She-Dick proves the only thing hotter than fishnet hose is a fishnet shirt.

It's a dead night at the club as the ladies make their way to a pseudo buffet of what seems to be chips, dips and pecan pie. I only know about the pie as Annie Rex came up with a fairly ample slice that will be probably be gagged up a bit later. As their song, "So Beautiful" says, "One two three four, throw it up and eat some more." With Annie's diet obsession, it is fair to say she and probably the others practice what they preach.

A mild-mannered gent in a plaid shirt, cargo shorts and sandals casts a curious eye toward the ladies and works the subtle angle by asking about the buffet. Candy, in PR mode, talks up the band and gives him a free commemorative lapel pin. He becomes fairly transfixed on Annie. He steps away for a bit only to shyly shuffle back up to Annie on her barstool. It's like watching the nerdy guy in high school trying to get a word in with the head cheerleader. He steps away again, and Annie whispers to us, "He said 'I think you're sexy'—so said the guy in plaid."

As we start to leave, Guy in Plaid invites us to join him and his friends. My curiosity appropriately kicks in high gear. I observe the fun banter between the three guys and dolls hoping they really know what was going on. In the worst come-on attempt of the century, Guy in Plaid goads Annie into an arm-wrestling match. With legs spread and her ovaries "hanging out," Annie braces herself. They are evenly matched, and neither has enough pride to just let it go. Annie loses, but later tells me, "I let him win."

The creepiest moment of the night happens soon after when Guy in Plaid bellows out a "That was hot!" and begins to adjust his sitting position. It looks as if he's getting ready for a camping trip with his newly pitched tent. The ladies humor the men some more; Guy in Plaid gazes lustfully with an open mind, but the night is officially coming to an end.

Walking back to my car, my head swirls in bewilderment. I just spent the night out with three glamazons, who probably were the prettiest girls in the room. And Gloria has the pictures on her phone to prove it. I can't wait to show mom.

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