The Southern Boys present
Dixie Longate’s Tupperware Party
Wed. June 11
28 Ann St.
There are a couple of things to keep in mind when attending one of Dixie’s Tupperware parties.
One, she’s going to call you a hooker. That’s a given. Don’t even bother trying to clarify, waving your professional license or time card around and such, insisting that no, really, you’re in accounting, retail, or the journalism trade. Dixie calls everybody “hooker.” It keeps things simple.
Two, you can bet dollars to doughnuts she’s going to sell you some Tupperware before the evening is out. Because, oh, yes, this is a real Tupperware party with all kinds of sealable stuff for the kitchen and pantry to purchase. So bring your pocketbook and get ready to roll in the aisles.
In addition to the party, this is side-splitting entertainment and a hit off-Broadway act that is getting ready to tour the nation. Dixie, by the way, mentions that she’s currently Tupperware’s No. 2 top-seller (she’s a bit cranky about that, so watch out, No. 1).
No, seriously, she really is selling a lot of Tupperware: as in six-digit annual sales figures.
“I’m so excited because I just broke $200,000, which is my personal record,” she says. “But you know what? You can’t be this successful and stay in a single-wide.”
When the show is on, Dixie is Dixie: a gal from Mobile, Ala., who claims three children by the names of Winona, DeWayne, and Absorbine, Jr., lists ex-husbands by the dozen, and waxes eloquent on the subjects of police procedure and prison terms.
When the show is over, Dixie disappears and Los Angeles-based actor Kris Andersson appears. With credits in major motion pictures like Titanic, The Majestic, and Scream 2, Andersson has a particular knack for dance and drag roles on the screen.
Dixie, of course, stays in character come hurricanes or hound dogs, through parties and interviews alike. What she’ll tell you about Andersson is that he is very helpful to her.
“I couldn’t get a checking account because of a little run-in with a bank teller and a handgun,” she explains. “You know, I was just showing the teller my new gun. I thought she’d like it. It was real pretty. Kris was nice enough to help me get all the finance stuff together.”
Dixie is straight to the point when it comes to the question of why you should buy Tupperware.
“It better be Tupperware,” she says. “Because otherwise you’re going to get that cheap crap that’ll melt in your microwave, get all stained, and what’s gonna happen when your friends come over and see that?
“You don’t want that because you just know they’re going to go to church and start talking behind your back. Like when you’re having sex with somebody else’s husband and everybody’s like, ‘You know what I heard at church?’ and one thing leads to another and it gets all ugly.”
Children and small pets are generally warned to stay away from Dixie’s Tupperware parties. But grown-ups who don’t take themselves too seriously and like to have a great time? Dixie’s position on that can be summarized as, well, come on, the more, the merrier.
The Southern Boys, a local self-described “fun-loving group” that frequently organizes events for LGBT charities, originally wanted to have Dixie in town for Dining with Friends, the annual Lowcountry AIDS Services fund-raiser, but schedule conflicts made that a no-go: June 11 was the earliest Dixie could be in Charleston. The good news is that proceeds from the show will still benefit LAS as well as the Alliance for Full Acceptance.
Dixie herself promises an evening of revelry and revelation. “I’m going to have all my plastic crap with me, and you’re going to be able to learn all about it,” she says. “I’m going to talk about essentials, like the Forget Me Not set — fantastic little things that hold half an onion or half a tomato you cut up so it won’t end up in a bag to go bad — as well as stuff to put the pickles and vodka in on the way to a church picnic or PTA meeting.
“And then there will be general things like containers for cereal or a box to put your condoms in for the weekend, because you don’t want to run out in the middle of a Saturday. You’ve got to have enough to get through. And that’s what I’m here for.”