Saturday, June 10, 12:10 a.m. They never saw it coming. It was quick, painless and over in a second. No casualties but there was a little friendly fire, mainly jokes back and forth over costume choices. And there were definitely shots fired—Jaeger, mostly. But overall, no one was harmed in the making of this Guerilla Masquerade Party. That's because—unfortunately for me and the four other people who showed—everybody else flaked.
It all started in Seattle, where costumed partiers targeted unsuspecting clubs and bars, descending upon them en masse, led by Dan "Dirty Bunny" Garlington. Garlington had gotten the idea from a group in San Francisco called the Guerilla Queer Bar, which, according to the Bay Area group's website, has been "sending hordes of drunken homosexuals reeling about greater San Francisco since May 2000," only without the crazy getups. A second Guerilla Masquerade Party (GMP) has since sprung up in Portland, and now in Vegas, with a Hot Rods and Hairspray theme.
Though the Seattle party usually went into the gay quarters of the city, the event was open to anyone over 21: "gay, straight, white, black, brown, tall, short, female, male, transgendered, young or old," according to the Seattle website. Now that one of Dirty Bunny's students, who goes by the nom de partie Miss Trixie and is a dead-ringer for Jenny McCarthy, is in Vegas, she's eager to follow in her teacher's footsteps and get a local GMP in gear.
Dressed as a Snap-on tool girl, Miss Trixie valiantly led the charge first into Hogs & Heifers, then down the Fremont Street Experience, and now into the Beauty Bar with a tiny posse in tow: two burlesque-y ladies and a boyfriend dressed as the Bandit (as in Smokey and The ...). Having already ditched the sideburns and moustache, he's a little less Burt Reynolds and a little more Brawny paper towel guy. The warning had already been put out there that nudity and lewd costumes would not be tolerated at any of GMP's outings. Clark County code (section 8.20.020, to be specific) was even posted on the group's website and blog at www.myspace.com/gmplasvegas.com.
To be sure, there's not a nipple in sight. Our disgracefully small group (Miss Trixie had expected 30 to 40 Guerillas) almost blends into the already colorfully dressed crowd at the Beauty Bar. Perhaps only the cowboy hat and racing flag give us away. Then again, there is already a girl in wrestling shorts, socks and shoes on the dance floor. My cocktail attire probably stands out the most.
Like other covert party operations—San Francisco's Urban Golf, Seattle's Brides of March (think wedding gear) and Seattle's Santarchy (mall-Santas), to name just a few—GMP relies heavily on word-of-mouth advertising, MySpace.com and Yahoo Groups to spread the good news. It was word-of-mouth that brought me to things like Rock 'n' Roll Wine events, the Pond at Green Valley Ranch and big purses, but it wasn't long before these things received enough media hype and attention to become well-known.
Maybe that marriage of grassroots marketing and media buzz will bring the Guerillas to a bar near you. On the other hand, it's the secrecy and the element of surprise that makes it so special. And exclusive. And while Vegas loves the contact-high exclusivity brings, we are also addicted to knowledge, and that, in the wrong hands and mouth, could spell ruin. So what is a girl to do? I ponder this on a walk past DJs Paulie and Johnny Roxx and the wrestling chick to Beauty Bar's patio where the Brobecks are just starting their set.
"I've got your knife inside my back / I've got your rope around my neck," they sing. I like them instantly. The patio is strung with Christmas lights over the fashion-forward and retro crowd in their low-slung black jeans with even lower-slung studded belts, pinups and pompadours. Before they wrap up, they give us some homework: "Um, we're on the Web," their own grassroots marketing plan.
"I'll just reset and go at it with a different perspective next time," says the perky Miss Trixie. The next GMP outing is set for July with a Pirates Of The Caribbean-theme, set right after the premiere of the film's sequel. So if on some hot July night, you see a marauding band of drunk pirates making their tipsy way down Las Vegas Boulevard, wave because I'll be the one carrying the flag.
Xania Woodman thinks globally and parties locally. And frequently. E-mail her at
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