Theme Song: "The Wrong Fag to Fuck With" - Johnny McGovern
I vividly recall, way back in May, receiving a wonderful STD (Save the Date, that is) from my #1 lez, Nelly-Nell via FaceBook AND TXT, something along the lines of, "Your gay ass is needed at Baltimore Pride." *salutes* Yes, Ma'am!! Unfortunately, given my new job (working on a catering van all-day everyday with my father, ick), I automatically assume I won't be able to go, and I don't even want to bring up anything remotely sex-related to my parents. HOWEVER, a few days later, my dad gets some advice from a former co-worker, saying that the Gay & Lesbian Block Party is a goldmine for food vendors, so he tells me to call up the Gays and get the info.
Jumping at the opportunity to speak fluent gay with the head of the Pride Parade, I find out that it's $800 a day to rent a space. Yowsa!! Needless to say, Daddy takes a pass. :-( At that point, I'm once again disappointed that I won't be going but happy that I won't be working it... with my parents. Ew. *shudder* I'm also strangely elated that my father's upset about not working the festival--even though it's not b/c he accepts me but because the homosexuals' money is just as green as anyone else's.
A week before the festivities, my main MD gay, EJ, calls to check up on me, as he tends to do. After a two-hour conversation, it's decided that we should link up for the first time since seeing "Avenue Q" back in December. And at that point, I decide, "To Hell with what my parents think, I am goin' to PRiDE." Besides, now that EJ's coming, there'll be safety in numbers. :D
Saturday rolls around, and I leave the house wearing a respectable outfit, when my mom enthusiastically asks, "Are you guys dressing up? Your sister went a couple years ago and went all out." No, Mother. *shifty eyes* Nelly and I hook up with Shelby (trailblazing lesbian stage manager from NHS freshman year) and head into Baltimore via Light Rail.
We step off the train and start following this group of teenage girls who are apparently... following US to PRiDE. "Are we following the wrong people here?" :-) Since NONE of us know where the hell we're going, we have to rely on our gay instincts. Did you hear that? A speck of glitter just hit the pavement 20 paces up ahead. And THAT? That was the rustling of flags, being twirled about by hot go-go boys.
From there, it was child's play. Once we heard "If you believe in life after LOVVVE," we knew we were home. We walk past the church and we see that the Gay Bomb, has in fact, gone OFF in Baltimore. And it is MAGICAL!! Slithering our way down the extremely crowded sidewalk, the Thumpa-Thumpa goes on in the background. Seeing the dog collars and barechested men around me, I decide it's OK to reveal my real outfit. While walking, I whip off my blue shirt and change into my old reliable slutgear: the cowboy outfit. Coincidentally, one block later, this guy turns to me and shoves 6 individual condoms in my hand, and says, "You're gonna need these more than me!" :-D I just thank him and say to myself faintly, "No, it'll be a couple months 'til I see him. Condoms expire, y'know!!"
We finally reach the "food court" (complete w/ sex toy tents and HIV testing booths) and in less than 3 minutes, I hear Nelly yell, "MARTY!!" I don't even take it seriously 'cause lots of guys look like Marty... we're not really gonna run into people we know, right? WRONG!!! Out of thousands of people, it IS Marty (aka "Scarecrow") and his boyfriend, Colin. We all exchange pleasantries and such. And let me tell ya, seeing cute gay couples like them just... makes me bitter. :-) But that's just because it reminds me of how much I miss Kyle, how much more fun this would be with him here as my trophy boy, or vice versa.This longing for Kyle translates to me gravitating toward EJ, my trusted quirky gay friend, when he finally arrives. I guess, I figure, that if people see me with someone already, they won't hit on me anymore. EJ's my gossiping buddy, dance partner, and something he says finally makes me realize that this isn't right on my part: "I knew it, I'm always Second Place with you."
Even though he was joking, I know that it's shitty for me to cling to him just because my guy's not around; EJ has my respect and shouldn't be treated like my Plan B. So I decide to devote the rest of the night to hooking him up with every guy in sight!! XD Honestly, I'm living vicariously through the single, gay man and whenever he likes a stranger passing by, we all say, "Go for IT!! That's what the porta-potties are really for." Trust me, we saw it.
If I Could Turn Back Time / If I Could Find A Waaaay...
Once the sun disappears behind the clouds, things begin to take a nasty turn. Two hours and three jumbo Mojitos later, the sexual atmosphere has been kicked into overdrive. Even though I've been hit on ALL day, at least the guys that groped my ass would say "HELLO" first. Once it got pitch black, I was rocking out in the crowd, while random pedestrians would do the most audacious things without a word: pinching my nipples, stroking my arms, poking their fingers around my twenty-one-year-old-ass. Walk-by groping's are NO FUN, because they force me to scream after a moving target, "HEY! I HAVE A BOYFRIEND, Y'KNOW!!" Plus, it robs me of the opportunity to show them his picture (which I kept in my back pocket as a WWKD reminder). Just because I'm dressed this way, that does not make me a whore.
After somehow losing all my friends in the crowd after a bathroom break, one particular guy really pushes me to the edge. I'm trying to just dance by myself and have a good time when he just starts touching me. He keeps whispering in my ear as he strokes my chest and crotch, "You're so sexy, you've got a nice dick, you know that?" Golly gee, I've never heard THAT one before. *rolls eyes* It gets to the point where I'm seriously tempted to clinch a fist, punch him square in the nose and walk away saying, "Guys with asses like mine don't talk to men with faces like yours, Mmm'kay!"
The highlight of the night: Johnny McGovern (star of The Big Gay Sketch Show), along with Team PIMP, takes the stage to sing songs like "Bossy Bottom" and "Somethin' for the Fellas." Unfortunately, he doesn't do my personal favorite, Soccer Practice! At this point in the night, Shelby has had waaaay too many drinks and is slowly disintegrating before our very eyes as she humps everything that moves and tells us to capture it on film. We are more than happy to help.
The show winds down and we go back to the Light Rail stop, with Shelby almost getting us killed, calling random motorists "STUPID CUNTS!!!" Nelly and I keep a safe distance, mouthing, "We don't know this crazy woman following us." And that was our night at PRiDE, all of us going home alone... which judging from the scary, slime-infested gay pool, is for the best.
Looking back on it, I did have a good time at the Pride Festival, but given its innately sexual atmosphere, I think it's much more fun for single people. But if you're spoken for, then it's no place to ease your feelings of loneliness. Being Forbidden Fruit myself, I was given condoms, randomly photographed, groped at least 45 times, not to mention that 12 people offered their phone numbers, but I neither accepted their numbers nor gave mine out. Don't get me wrong, I love gettin' compliments, I love gettin' attention even more, but when it's all taken to the point of EXCESS, you're just left feelin' filthy.
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