Saturday night, Steph and I trekked through the rain to Bowery to go see the Scissor Sisters "secret" (or not-so-much) show. We got upstairs to find (much to my general glee) Leslie and the Lys opening up. Now, in case you don't know, my friend Tom had Leslie play for his Birthday party at Lillie's in Red Hook and it was an experience to say the least. After engaging in an ultimate late 80s/early 90s dance-off with a friend's friend, Leslie invited the two of us to become her new backup dancers. She got our email addresses and I anxiously awaited the next time she would come to town so I could get my cheesy boogie on...and she never emailed. Much to my chagrin, she still had the same backup girls at Bowery. Nothing personal, ladies, but I really think I could have done a kick ass job up there.







After Leslie, a Dj kept the crowd (mostly gay men) pumped by playing lots of cheesy dance music. Steph and I were pleasantly drunk and having a grand ole time shaking our groove thangs, when, all of a sudden, I notice people start staring up at the balcony right above my head. I look up and see none other than Cher. This has suddenly become a gay man's (and, let's be honest, my) idea of heaven. Cher. Fucking Cher. After living in NYC for going-on 8 years, I've seen plenty of celebrities. Most of the time I don't really care, but Cher, Cher is an icon. We couldn't stop staring. Cher sang along to Prince. Cher likes Prince. Eventually I was getting a crick in my neck and the show was starting so I stopped paying attention. I got way caught up in the disco fever and danced my ass of to the Scissor Sisters. They are some fine entertainers.

After the show I looked up to find Cher still sitting there. "Gee," I thought, "I've got a digital camera. I'm going to try and get a picture of Cher. That would be really awesome." I was at a horrible angle for pictures and she wasn't even looking in my direction, so I just turned on my flash, zoomed in and pointed the camera in her general direction, hoping for something semi-mediocre. I left Bowery without really looking at what I had captured.

When I got home, I started to upload the pictures on my laptop.

This was the first picture of Cher:



"Whoa," I thought..."I totally got a shot of her ass. My bad."

And then THIS one came up:



HOLY SHIT. I had inadvertently taken a picture of Cher's cooch. Yes, Kiddies, look closely- it's definitely there. Her lady bits. Her va-jay-jay. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I did a little of both. Dear God. Cher, please, for the love of God, don't wear a skirt that short with no undies and fishnets if you are going to be standing on the balcony of a public music venue...so wrong.

And IF, after that, you still want to see pics of the Scissor Sisters...