“La Jaula de las Locas” a.k.a “My Big Fat Gay Wedding”

         Friday, August 6^th. It was going to be the wedding celebration of one of the same-sex couples who got married here in Argentina, Alejandro Vanelli, a manager, and Ernesto Lerrese, an actor, who had been together for 34 years. I got my Willy Wonka golden-ticket into the fancy party because one of my friends works at the company responsible for setting up the party, so I showed up with her a couple of hours before and made some paper-mache flowers for the decorations, then jumped into my suit once the guests started arriving and basically infiltrated the wedding.

         When I first arrived at the party area, where things were still being set up, I was amazed to see how fabulously and flamboyantly gay it was. From the candles to the paper-mache flowers, everything was dipped in the colours of the rainbow, and when the DJ was doing a sound-check, Cher’s ‘Believe’ was blasting through the room. Even the dance-floor was a huge rainbow. It was every little gay boy’s wet-dream come true.

         The press, from all sorts of magazines and TV shows, was waiting hungrily by the red carpet, and the only negative point was that they seemed to be more interested in the Argentine celebrities strutting down the carpet than in the grooms, who arrived in a fancy old jaguar.

         I was standing in the reception room with some friends who had slipped in the same way I had (only they had actually worked before during the setting up), sipping on champagne and basically devouring any hors d’oeuvres that passed my way (I hadn’t eaten that day, and the waiters seemed to recognize the starving look on my face because they always made a beeline straight for me first). I stared at the crowd of people slowly filling up the reception area, wondering how many of these were so-called ‘celebrities’ I didn’t recognize, when I thought I spotted a familiar face among the crowd. A beautiful blonde woman wearing a short, sexy dress, I was sure I’d met her before, and was on my way over to say hello when I realized who she was: one of the actresses of “Botineras.” If you’ve read my previous post on “telenovelas” you would know that this is the only Argentine show I watch, and therefore the only argentine actors and actresses I can name. She was Guillerina Valdez, Lily in the TV show, the scorned ex-wife (in “Botineras”) of my future husband Cristian Sancho, el Flaco on the show. I was going to ask for a picture but then I realized she had quite the bitch-face on and I hated her character and thought of her as a terrible actress, so I decided against it. I did almost drop my champagne glass when I realized who she was (note: it was my sixth glass).

         The guests were then ushered into the main hall as the curtains leading into this room were parted, and me and my friends quickly snatched a table (thank God there was no seating arrangement, can you imagine how awkward that would have been?). It was a buffet dinner of sushi and “sandwiches de lomo” and some other stuff, but I was too busy at the bar to pay much attention to the food, plus I’d stuffed my face with every type of hors d’oeuvres.

         During the dinner a slideshow of pictures was projected onto the screens at the back of the room, showing the two grooms’ lives from babies to old men (they’re over 50, for me that’s old). There were also clips of the debates and demonstrations over the marriage equality law, which was kind of awing and nostalgic because it made you feel like you were living in a historic time. I mean, I would never have imagined I would be attending a gay wedding, and there I was, basking in the gayness of it all. It was time for the groom’s first dance, and ‘I am what I am’ started playing. It was really gay, but really cute as well to watch the two men dancing surrounded by loved ones and ‘celebrities’ and party-crashers clapping and shouting.

         It was then I sneaked off to one side of the room, heading for the bar of course since it was empty since everyone was watching the dance, and I spotted two nice old ladies sitting on one of the tables, wearing granny-sweaters and smiling brightly. My lesbo-dar instantly went off, and I realized they were the first lesbians who got married in Argentina. I couldn’t remember their names but I tripped my way over to them, sat down next to them and started gushing about what an inspiration they had been and wondering if I could get a picture with them. They smiled and said ‘of course’ so I pulled out my Blackberry and snapped a shot with the merry lesbo grannies. My night of stalking had begun!

         The dancing was starting and I was drunk enough to shake my thang without feeling weird, though to be honest I was at a gay wedding so I’m pretty sure there were quite a few ‘dancing queens.’ It was then I spotted another Argentine celebrity: Gonzalo Heredia, the latin lover personified that maids and tweens gush over all throughout the country while watching “telenovelas,” though he currently stars in one of the hottest TV shows “Malparida” (see post on local literary gems), but “Malparida” is the enemy of “Botineras” so I wanted nothing to do with him. But then I realized how jealous I could make many of my frenemies so I sauntered over to him, praised him for his work (which fortunately he didn’t question or I would have stared at him blankly and been forced to have made a quick getaway), and asked for a picture. He agreed, and now the photo in Facebook is full of comments while I purr in smug self-indulgence.

         I then dragged myself into the reception area for a breather when I saw the grooms taking a picture for a magazine. I chugged another champagne glass and went over to them, once again smiling like a retard and saying how proud they made gay youth in Argentina and blah blah blah. Of course it was picture time again, and I handed my Blackberry to some fat lady who snapped the shot and said it was great. I thanked the grooms and moved back to the bar. I decided to check the picture out and almost choked on the Caipiroska I was gulping: the picture was really blurry. I made a mental note to trip the dumb bitch who had taken the picture if I got the chance, but I nursed my wounded pride with another drink.

         It was time for a toilet break, and this is when I almost peed myself in excitement. Standing near the toilet was Leonora Balcarce, another actress from “Botineras,” who plays Mercedes the President of the Cristal football club. I ran towards her and started blabbing on in English in a British accent, saying how I was from London and loved her show and watched it online from the other side of the ocean. Total bullshit, but I was drunk enough to believe it, and she seemed pretty wrecked as well, but stared at me with a deer-in-the-headlights look as I rambled on in English, stuttering a basic ‘thank you’ every now and then in quite shitty English. I demanded for spoilers, eager to know what was going to happen, and she had to call a friend over to serve as a translator, though I almost blew my cover at one point by almost answering her without waiting for the translation. It was the highlight of the night.

         Anyway, the dancing and drinking went on and I basically ended up with two flowers pinned to my hair and taking picture with the dancers and drag queens of ‘Club 69’ who had graced the party with their fierce and fabulous presences. The rest of the night is a bit of a blur but it is enough to say I woke up the next day with an epic hangover, flowers in hair and little gay flags pinned to my suit.

         To all the “locos” and “locas”

         El Pendejo Porteño

PS: Also took a pic  and chatted with Maria Rachid, president of the Argentine LGBT, but her English was pretty good so it wasn’t as fun as with Leonora