TRANSVESTITE RABBIT WRITES A NOVEL
 Chapter Six

 

The Xanga Ball

The banner hanging above the cavernous ballroom told the
story.  A vast dance floor filled with
the rhythmic movements of bloggers unchained from their keyboards occupied the
center of the room.  Around the
circumference, areas were organized by blog rings.  I turned in circles, taking in the hundreds
of names. 

A man in a red shirt marked “Xanga God” slapped a sticker on
my back.

“What’s that, a Kick Me sign?”  I asked.

“No, certainly not,” he said.  “It says, ‘transvestite rabbit.’”  As he walked away I read the sticker on his
back.  John.

“Yo, T.R.,” a voice called. 
I tried to place the accent.  Jersey? 

I looked at the blog ring sign over his head.  Vintage Jazz
and Blues
.  Herb Alpert could be
heard over the pop-y, swingy stuff Jay was spinning in the DJ booth.

“Hey Kaz!”  I smiled
and waved.

“Embrace the scratches,” he yelled as the crowd swept me
forward. 

A crowd of women hung around the Momwriters blog ring.  In the
center stood a long red-haired woman with a gift for capturing the nuances of
human behavior in anecdotal form.  The
other women fired questions and remarks at her. 
Everyone, it seemed, wanted to talk to Neuroticfitchmom. 

At the Grownups with
Content WORTH Being Featured
area, a loud argument was in progress.  A group of youngsters demanded
inclusion. 

“I AM TOO a grown-up!” insisted a boy with a petulant pout,
waving his driver’s license.  “I turned 20
YESTERDAY.”

An affable gent with a wide smile remarked, “My bald spot is
older than you are, sonny.”

“Read the sign, kiddies,” said a no-nonsense woman.  “30 and up. 
Get thee to the basement party room.”

I gave Twoberry and momofjenmatt two thumbs up on my way
past.

A small sign in a far corner of the ballroom pulled me,
though I couldn’t see why.

 !!
~ Poetry Central ~ !!

I didn’t belong to
this or any other poetry blog rings.  My
poetic efforts were limited to limericks and the occasional haiku.  Still, I approached the white-clothed table
there and helped myself to some punch.

A 40ish man with a
goatee approached me.  “Which one’re
you?” he asked, circling around to look at my back.  “Transvestite rabbit?  Never heard of you.”

“I don’t usually
hang out here,” I said apologetically. 
“I only write prose and um… grants.” 
I looked at my feet.

The goateed dude
snorted and walked off to find somebody more poetic to talk to.

“Why are you
standing around here?”  Carey appeared
suddenly, followed by a man who seemed like he was shy, yet had a lot to
say.  “Take Steve out to dance,” she
ordered.

“Leonidas,” I said,
“how did you…” I stopped, stunned speechless by the door behind the Poetry
Central blog ring.  In executive-type
block lettering, the door read:

 Scary Clown
Manager

“Wait!” I said.  “I’ve
got to go see, um, somebody over there,” I told Steve.  “Grab a poet and go dance!”

I pushed my way through the thickening crowd and approached
the door, raising my fist to knock.

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24 thoughts on “

  1. But what of the mysterious tuxedo clad daper Polar Bear with a salmon cocktail in one paw and bagel and lox in the other who watches intently from the bar….what could he be up to??????

  2. Wait…I’m only 27…can’t I stay in the ballroom?  I write in complete sentences and use punctuation…I don’t want to be in the basement at the Kiddie Table!
    I’m enjoying this so much.

  3. Poor Carey… not invited to the ball.(Eh, she’s probably having more fun bossing people around!)And no need for you to apologize… It’s too hard to comment on poetry blogs, anyway. (No offense.)

  4. That was pretty interesting, almost like it would be someone’s nightmare.  An axiety nightmare from being overwhelmed by blogrings and xanga drama…
    I liked it.

  5. How old does one have to be to move up from the kiddie table? And does Xanga have the biggest balls of all? (Sorry, I think I have AC/DC on the brain for some weird reason)
    ryc: I remember reading somewhere that night shift workers are more prone to depression and family/marriage problems. It’s not for everyone, that’s for sure, but I really like it.  

  6. Just where is Technogeek and the two adorable little girls in pink snowsuits?  Is Scary Clown going to murder somebody?   May I suggest the tuxedo clad polar bear eating bagels and lox?

  7. Is this Kansas? Or am I dreaming! I think Kansas is a made up place..just a place to read about in books by kids! 
    Great story!!!!   Thanks for the visit!   Don’t mind me!!! 
    KArolyn

  8. Huh….I can’t wait to see who else is going to make a cameo.  Although, much to my dismay, I’m apparently stuck at the stupid basement party, since I’m only 20.

  9. Thanks for your article, pretty useful piece of writing. 6 1 8. Pretty helpful info, lots of thanks for this article. 1 4 1. Gosh, there is a lot of useful material here! site web 9. Quite worthwhile piece of writing, lots of thanks for the article.

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