Pride is Whatever

I had never been to NYC’s Pride Parade before this year because I am usually in California volunteering at a summer camp for adults with disabilities. I did not return to camp this year for a myriad of reasons, so instead, I got to experience this landmark event.

Welllll, if by ‘landmark’, I meant ‘messy’.

Our gaggle of gays met at Jeff’s apartment, conveniently located steps away from the parade route in the West Village. Before arriving at Jeff’s, I went to see The Moment of Silence. It was to happen at 2pm. I thought this would be a powerful moment and I didn’t want to miss it. I arrived at the parade route at 1:45pm. After twenty minutes went by, I began to get really excited to see this huge crowd of fags shut up and observe the silence and pay respects to those who have lost their lives for a myriad of reasons. I watched a gay gospel choir, a gay Indian group, and a bunch of rowdy gaysians march on by… but it was now 2:15pm!!! Where the fuck is my silence?!?!?! I wanted to be touched by the power of community silence!!!! And instead, I get a sea of Asian and Pacific Islander lesbians all wearing red and waving red pom-poms?!?!?!?! Criminy!

After being accosted by several straight entrepreneurs selling rainbow everythings, I went to Jeff’s just in time to avoid a ginormous thunderstorm! Thank goodness, because I forgot my umbrella… ella… ella. We drank and drank and drank some more. The intense lightning and furious thunder pressed down hard on the parade. In the distance, I could hear drag queens screaming and their boots clomping towards cover. I’m sure the rain brought a certain sense of togetherness to everyone along the parade route, however, we were all quite content to let the rain pass while we drank for cheap inside the apartment. Once it passed, we ventured out into the hot, humid, grossness.

Two minutes into our parade watching, the storm started up again. We ran like tiny, pink faggots back into the apartment. More drinking. A gay dance party in the living room. Someone suggested an orgy, which wasn’t going to happen for a myriad of reasons. We were having a delightful time being gay in this apartment, which happens every time I’m over there anyway. We didn’t really need a parade to assert our individuality and togetherness. Some people do, sure, great – get rained on in sticky wetness…

We did, eventually, assert ourselves enough to get a cheeseburger at Julius – an old man gay bar. Wow, that place was too much. Creepy and weird. To each his own, but I hadda get the eff out of there. In the streets, we saw all sorts of near-nudity. A Jamaican girl’s booty, a man in gold speedos, and even more dark meat was on display. Somewhere, in all this drunken mess, we lost our friend Gary. Last time we saw him, he was stumbling towards The Dugout, a sweaty bear bar, and yelling at us over his shoulder, “You’re too slow, homo! You’re slow-mo, homos!” The last know picture of Gary is here. Please let me know if you have seen our friend.

Robert really loved his pink umbrella… ella… ella. It was good for many photo ops. We ran into my good friend, Raffy, and we all enjoyed an ice cream and chatted in the streets. The oppressive heat drove us back to the apartment. Being able to be our own DJ and drink cheaply was much more enticing than standing around watching people pass out in the streets. I was such a sweatty, hot mess!

All in all, we had a great time. Laughing, boozing, and generally fagging out all over the place. It’s just what we normally do on any other given day! Which, when you think about it, makes New York pretty awesome… for a myriad of reasons.