As you may or may not know, this Sunday was NYC’s Gay Pride Parade. A few of my friends from Philadelphia wanted to come, so I told them they could stay with me and we’d all go together.
Once they got to my place around 1, we had to pregame of course. Well, girls will be girls and we ended up drinking past the parade. We got there just in time to see the last moving van bringing up the rear. Oops!
Luckily my friends’ favorite gay bar Cubbyhole (what a great name, right?) was just around the corner, so we schlepped our way over there for the afternoon. Not surprisingly, Cubbyhole is pretty small, so the crowd overflowed into the street. For once, cops weren’t douches and let everyone mill about with open containers. Let me tell you it was quite the medley of lesbians, flamboyant gay boys, men in bikinis, and probably anything else you can imagine. My favorite part about Pride was that everyone was so friendly and welcoming. I spent most of the day talking to strangers, trading stories, hearing about their Pride experiences – everyone was approachable. I traded business cards with an older gay couple, chatted with a man named Karen in a fluorescent bikini, and helped Frankie pass out butterflies for everyone to attach to their bags. People were walking around with “FAG”, “DYKE” and “QUEER” stickers, and it became a competition to see who could collect the most. It was such a fun atmosphere, no wonder everyone travels such great distances.
I lost track of time, but I think we were there until 7 or 8. On a recommendation, we set out to find Gym’s Sports Bar, but got distracted (by food – typical) and ended up having dinner at Vynl. The staff had put together a Lady Gaga video playlist for Pride, which made dinner infinitely more awesome.
Post-dinner everyone was up for some dancing, so we set off to find Splash. When we got there, it was overflowing with scantily-clad gay men, and my friend couldn’t wait to get it. By this time it was after 10 on a Sunday, so some of us went home and left the boys to dance. Unfortunately my apartment is literally 8000 degrees Fahrenheit, so I had barely fallen asleep when the rest of the group got home at 3:30. We sweated it out for a few more hours until it was time to go to work, then I unceremoniously pointed them in the direction of the bagel shop, took a cold shower, and headed to work.
Low point of the weekend: An unknown guest (or should I say unsub?) stepped in shit and then stomped it into my bathroom rug by accident. I tried cutting it out, but that didn’t work, so now I’m on the hunt for a new one. Good thing Target will be here soon…