Gay Bingo: GLAMAZONIA, glitz and a good cause

You won't find dauber-toting ladies with their plastic bags of potato chips. At Gay Bingo, now in its 10th year, the crowd is dotted with feather boas, flashy glitter and multicolored sequins.

Gay Bingo has drawn a crowd — often selling all its 570 tickets weeks in advance — since its inception a decade ago. And it raises roughly $10,000 a session, money that goes toward the Lifelong AIDS Alliance's programs such as food distribution, medical coverage, case management and housing for those living with HIV or AIDS.

"Male. Female. Gay. Straight. I wouldn't say there's a majority of any group at bingo," said Lifelong AIDS Alliance special-events coordinator Meredith Stone. "So it's an outreach opportunity for us."

And at the center of it all is the 7-foot, 2-inch drag queen GLAMAZONIA — that's including her 8-inch heels, of course.

The flamboyant drag queen — who always writes her name in capital letters — is known to pluck a particularly succulent man from the crowd to be a guest number caller, preferably with his shirt off.

"GLAMAZONIA has to be a little naughty. She has to," said GLAMAZONIA, aka Thom Hubert. "I think she's more entertaining that way."

Hubert, a Connecticut-native, landed in Seattle after a three-year run as a clown with Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey.

Queens in drag have almost always hosted Gay Bingo. Past emcees include sex columnist Dan Savage and performer Mark Finley. Hubert, or GLAM, did drag makeovers on lucky bingogoers for a year before becoming the primary host three years ago.

"Drag used to be getting up and lip-syncing a Whitney Houston song," said Hubert. "This is a chance for me to have fun as a performer and show a different side of drag."

And when GLAMMIE gets especially naughty — like when she goes on a dirty talking spree to see if the sign-language interpreters will keep up with her — she'll be reigned in by the pure and innocent Miss Intermission, who helps host the show.

"My job is to bring a touch of sparkle, a sprinkle of happiness and a smattering of infinite wisdom to bingo," said Miss Intermission, aka Lisa Neal, 33.

Before every bingo, Hubert spends about two hours getting ready. He showers and shaves — although he never shaves his legs.

"I am a man in a dress. I'm not a real woman," he says. "I'm an entertainer and there are some places I'm not going to go."

He slips on three or four pairs of pantyhose, tall shoes and slinky clothes that usually relate to that month's theme — be it Gilligan's Island, Twins Night or Toga Bingo.

As hopeful bingo players file into the auditorium at Capitol Hill's Temple De Hirsch Sinai, they are greeted by a few of the 50-some volunteers who have covered the long, cafeteria-style tables with tablecloths in a rainbow of colors. They are overwhelmed by whiffs of popcorn, hot dogs and other carnival-type snack food.

The intricately made up Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence — a group of drag "nuns" who volunteer for various causes in the area — work the crowd in their sometimes sultry dresses and ostentatious accessories.

"It's silly fun," said Sister Eva Destruction. "It's a great opportunity for us to make people smile and make people laugh."

The "Bingo Virgins" are singled out — usually about a quarter of the crowd. And at GLAMAZONIA's urging, bingo players swear by the "bingo pledge" to love one another. A collective groan after an exclamation of "Bingo!" is fully discouraged.

"It's just fun. There's no alcohol and no smoking," said Anne Mennen, 38, a real-estate agent who lives in Seattle. "It's just almost like good, family entertainment."

Dee Steele, 46, of Edmonds, is known to bring her two children — ages 7 and 10 — to the event.

"The kids love it," said the phone company customer service representative. "Most of the jokes are over their heads, and it's not anything that's harmful. ... This is a lot more fun than staying home and watching a movie."

Steele also thinks the exposure to various lifestyles is good for her children.

"I have a lot of gay friends. A real diverse circle of friends," she said.

For Canis, 45, who calls himself a community circus performer, Gay Bingo reinforces a sense of unity that seems rare in today's world.

"It crosses so many barriers between the straight and gay communities with the tie that binds being the epidemic," he said. "I don't often get to be in such a large crowd where we can all laugh together."

While HIV and AIDS is sometimes overshadowed by the campy humor and glittery costumes, the brochures littering each table on efforts to find a cure serve as a reminder.

"With everything going on right now, AIDS has been put on the back burner, and I think we really need to let everybody know that it is still out there," said Stone, of Lifelong AIDS Alliance. "This is still going on, and people are sick and still need help. ... Ultimately you're there to support a cause."

Gina Kim: 206-464-2761 or gkim@seattletimes.com