I was standing on my tip toes, trying like hell to reach the top shelf of the cabinet in Ambrose's shared apartment. Stupid being 5'2". And Ambrose wonders why I wear seven inch heels?

My hand had almost snatched the Cap'n Crunch, when Ambrose shrieked from the living room and startled the shit out of me.

"RUIZ! RUIZ! DIOS MIO!! RUIZ! THERE'S DRAG QUEENS ON RICKI LAKE AGAIN!"

I started to grin. I opened a drawer in a sudden epiphany, got a wooden mixing spoon and knocked the Cap'n Crunch off the cabinet's shelf with it. The Cap'n Crunch dropped to the floor, bursting open. Ambrose's ragdoll cat, Baby Doll, started to go for it but I dragged her away with my foot as I swung over in a perfect ballet move to pick up the Cap'n Crunch box.

Baby Doll immediately went for the spilled cereal again and I just left her. "You're just going to have diarrhea, Baby Doll," I laughed, making my way down the hall to the living room.

Plopping down on the couch, Ambrose reached into the Cap'n Crunch box. This was routine for us, so he knew what I had of course.

"What's the drama?" I asked, stuffing my face, too.

"Dude didn't know he was getting a lap dance from a guy," Ambrose giggled.

"That's always the story," I laughed.

"Yeah, but get this," Ambrose said, "it was two guys. He was so wasted he didn't know there were two drag queens. They're going to bring the other one out later. Dude is gonna freeeak!"

We burst into fits of giggles and fell all over the couch, Cap'n Crunch spilling all over.

"Whoa, careful, if those get crushed and crumbs rub into the couch again, Miss Cha Cha's gonna be the one freaking out," Ambrose breathed, starting to pick them up in his cupped hand. I helped him.

Throughout the show, we watched in various states of upside down, tilted heads, and seeing the TV picture in the glass topped coffee table as we tried to pick up as many Cap'n Crunch nuggets as we could with our hands.

"Let me get the Handi-vac and a trash bag, let me know what happens," Ambrose beamed, leaving the room.

On the TV, the guy started to sob. "I was in love with her, though. I'm in love with her. I don't understand. She's so pretty. She can't be a guy. She just can't be!"

I made a low whistle.

"What?! What did I miss?!" Ambrose shouted from the kitchen. "Aww, man!"

Baby Doll joined me on the couch, looking frisky on the arm of it from all the sugar. I stroked her rabbit-like fur from her head to her tail as I watched the guy sob.

"I do believe those are strippers and not drag queens, Baby Doll," I said to her as if reciting a scientific formula. "You know your owner is a drag queen and not a stripper, right?"

She just purred.