As they were leaving Mama Dee’s one night, each slightly pink about the cheeks with the hopeless effort of sucking in his over-indulged beef belly, they passed a gaggle of drunken drag queens. Young guys tugging at short skirts and stumbling on high heels, laughing at each other and looking for What’s Next. Danny snagged their attention as he and Cooter trundled by.
“Whoo-ee,” one of them said. “That right there is a tall drink of water.”
“A good thing,” said another. “Cuz I’m plenty thirsty.”
“How tall are you?” hollered either the least creative or the drunkest.
“Just about this tall,” Danny said. “Maybe a little taller.”
“Bet he’s got a huge d**k, huh?” The drunkest tugged at Cooter’s arm.
He threw her off. Not violently, but definitively. “You’ll never know,” he told her. “Trust
