Yesterday, April 22, was the (cue flashy lights and glitter and some sort of exploding confetti-bomb) Release Of Madonna's Album, or ROMA. The only other CD I have bought on its actual official release data was Garbage's "Beautiful Garbage," so I was feeling mighty current with my pop culture when I sauntered into Virgin yesterday afternoon to pick up my copy.
There was a drag queen of unknown origin or nomenclature with a microphone right inside the door, asking people trivia questions of questionable difficulty, making pithy comments of dubious ferocity, and distributing prizes of debatable quality. Quite a crowd had gathered 'round her and her ROMA-related festivities, in an effort to score a Madonna belt buckle or some such other Madonna-branded item. I was, of course, too cool for all that (or, I did not know the name of the only video in which Madonna has appeared as a redhead, take your pick), so I grabbed my copy of the CD and walked up to the register.
As I'm standing in line, of course, the drag queen calls out a new question. "What's the title of the BMW short movie Madonna starred in, directed by her husband, Guy Ritchie?" At this point, however, I was firmly ensconced in my line, and yelling across the store, "The entire BMW Films series was called 'The Hire,' but the segment starring Madonna was called 'Star' and I own it on DVD," seemed a little out-of-place. Besides, I try to make it a point to not ever yell at drag queens, no matter what the circumstances. Yelling At Drag Queens = Not For Me.
Nobody else knew the answer, and I had to sit there and listen to people guess the wrong things entirely. It was awfully frustrating -- but not as frustrating as watching some random guy walk in off the street and yell out the answer just as I finished my purchase and walked back to the vicinity of the drag queen and company. This random stranger totally absconded with MY Madonna Tote Bag.
I want my damned tote bag.