When we arrive for Keith Cole’s drag show swan song on Friday, the mayoral candidate greets us with a pair of matronly, wax-pink cheek kisses. It is on the basis of these twin stamps of approval that we are allowed to bypass the admission fee for the Keith Cole Experience, an alternate universe where lipstick stains supersede media pass pretensions.
Bedecked in a filmy, multicoloured kilt, worn (appropriately?) commando, with a large plastic lobster fastened to his head, Cole tends lovingly to his audience. “My mayor campaign is taking over my life,” he apologizes, acknowledging the chorus of boos that follows the announcement of his performing hiatus, “so no time for shenanigans!”