Tuesday, June 27, 2006

A confession

I have been out for twenty years and have only been to one, count it, one Pride event. It's not that I didn't want to ever go to one. It's just that the closest one is in Lansing and thats a bit of a drive. Plus I panic and don't like to drive in cities that I'm not familiar. That and I only have two close friends, Angel who is boardering on agoraphobia and doesn't go out much, hell I can't even get him to come to our parties. Then Thurston, we tried to go once but by the time he got his shit together it was late afternoon and most of the events were over.

The time I did go was awesome. It was about 15 yrs ago. My bf at the time had a niece who lived in DC, so we drove down and crashed at her place. She lived not very far from Dupont Circle, which was the gayborhood. We went and marched in the parade, which was a big mistake. It took most of the afternoon of standing around getting everyones shit together before we actually hit the streets. It was sunny and hot and we got majorly sunburned. By the end of the day my face was the color of a tomato. Eartha Kitt was on stage yelling "March! March!" Either before or after the march (I can't remember) we went and smoked a joint by the reflecting pools.

That evening we went and hung out at Dupont Circle with the other Mo's. I had never been around that many other gay men in my life. It was fabulous! We hit a couple of the bars. In the morning I went down to a cool little coffee house to grab a cup of joe and sit and people watch. This cute guy came in who had a back pack covered in pink stickers. One of the stickers said, "BUTT FUCKING IS FUN".

And that is my one and only Pride story.

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