Refugee Status with Drag Queens

Last night, I was a refugee. A first world refugee, but one nonetheless. This is not to make light of countless refugees who have had to flee their homelands, but the fact remains I was briefly a refugee quarantined at Quebec City's finest gay bar with no place to call home.

The night started with great intentions: host a surprise party at the local gay bar for a show hen who is leaving us this week. The surprise was a success and the night was off to a great start with drinks and cake under our belts all before 8 p.m. At this rate, we could have both a rowdy night out and a full night's sleep.