Sitting in Business Class aboard this PAM ANN service to camp heaven, I was concerned that my inflight entertainment system (Caroline Reid) wouldn’t be able to deliver the high-quality broadcast I’m used to, however, I was every bit enchanted with PAM since the first time she tried to strip me…
As I arrived at the theatre to watch Pam Ann’s ‘You F’Coffee,’ I thought I was in the wrong building. The late great Astoria came to mind as hundreds of London’s gay glitterati swanned around, clinking champagne glasses and wearing t-shirts far too tight. Actually, the theatre was serving Champagne in Plastic, I know, the horror. The only thing missing from the old G-A-Y days was the smell of poppers and that feet-sticking-to-the-floor-ohmigod-what-is-that-I’m-stepping-in feeling.
Once seated and prepared for takeoff Pam enters the stage and certainly gives the audience what they want. She actually glows, radiance is my word du jour for Pam. Participation, crude and lewd language and anal jokes from wall to wall. It’s all rather marvellous stuff. I gave up counting the word c**t (and I mean that in an endearing way) after around 150 of the blighters projectiled out from the stage – mostly aimed at the second row of hoof clad British Airway’s hostesses.
It’s testament to Pam’s awareness and captivation of her audience that this act, which should be very limited in its subject matter has been doing the rounds since 1996 and yet there seems to be no faltering in the love for Ms Ann. Especially as she leaps from the stage and rub her bountiful bosom in an unsuspecting, expectant bear’s face. They love it of course. Any chance to be touched, groped or lushed upon by Ms. Ann is any gay’s dream, which I was to realize personally a few years back, when unannounced and quite early in the evening on an empty dance floor at Scala’s now-defunct Popstarz night in King’s Cross, Caroline, accosted, nay, molested me and began to strip me in the middle of the club. Now of course I’m far too much of a gentleman to go all the way – or she hadn’t ‘slipped enough E into my drink’ but the love affair had started. No woman has touched me like that. Before or since. Subtle and clever marketing, touching the lives of gay men around the world.
At times, the show felt as though it was nearly out of control with Reid, racing ahead of her own jokes, but ultimately, the overwhelming feeling is that she absolutely loves what she does and the audience loves her for it. I wouldn’t have minded if Reid had fluffed and f**ked up, because it’s in the unplanned and spontaneous that Pam Ann’s true genius shines through.
Pam Ann is a true gay icon. A f**cking class act (I know I’m swearing… even in Business Class) One dimensional – but fascinating, uncomplicatedly simple – but sublimely camp and after 16 years of Boeing 747 series 400 with… wingtips (thank you gays…) is keeping her audience quite literally lubricated.
