When the Colorado Daily sat down for drinks with its subjects earlier this summer, it said, “Let’s think of a clever concept. Something different for a special section that will be distributed to the fine fools of Boulder.”
Then it got wasted and we had to carry it home. But it was a successful night. The Tea was born.
The Tea. The T.
It’s the talk. The truth. The news. The exclusive.
From 19th-century women gathering to gossip over afternoon tea in corsets, petticoats and large hats, to today’s drag culture “spilling the tea” among its queens swathed in glitter and glam, “The Tea” means to share the gossip, to get the scoop.
“My proper role is to honor and obey my husband,” said a random lady named Victoria in 1890s England, adjusting her bustle while sipping high tea with the dames.
“Rubbish, Victoria, spill the tea,” the dames retorted.
“Very well,” Victoria replied. “Charles was stuffing his bags o’ mystery* for supper when he put my hand on his giblets. I was rather not in the mood for ill discourse, so I obliged.”
Gasps ensued among doilies and assorted pastries.
“Girl, it’s like my mom always said, ‘Two tears in a bucket, motherfuck it,’” The Lady Chablis chimed as she sashayed through trays of cucumber sandwiches. “It’s your T, honey.”
Jaws hit lap clutches.
“Spoons on your saucers, queens. Close those yaps,” The Lady said.
“My T?” Victoria asked.
“Yeah, your T. Your thing, your business, what’s goin’ on in your life,” Lady Chablis said.
That mashup was brought to you by “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil” and inspiration from a “Titanic” scene.
We’ve got The Tea for you right here. In this rag, we’ll get you the info — like how NOT to party during the pandemic, fun adventure outings and need-to-know info for those feeling down and dirty from COVID. We’ll even spill some irreverent tea and talk about dating in masks.
We swear to spill The Tea, the whole tea and nothing but the tea. And if you want more, call me. Your dad has my number.
If you don’t like The Tea, too bad. I’ll throw my tea right in your face. It’s whiskey-soaked with an absinthe sidecar. That shit will burn.
Grab a mug, a bag o’ leaves, spice them up and sit back and enjoy this aromatic ride.
*Sausages
