This year at Pride (which I have never been to before) I worked as a bag-checker/extremely menacing 130-pound security guard who made people throw away their Slurpees on the way in. It was fantastic.
I wish I had seen... MORE drag queens! (Not enough, damn it!)
I wish I hadn't seen... the Dyke parade (their official words, not mine)
I witnessed... a nearly 300 pound lesbian in a skintight, short Rainbow Brite costume dragging around her teenaged lesbian partner (who looked like Natalie Portman with the shaved head and everything)
I was told... numerous times that I was cute
I was yelled at... when I asked the President of the Pride Festival if I could search her bag (apparently she was late for something inside, but how was I supposed to know who she was?! I was just doing my job! She should be glad I was keeping the queers safe...)
Many bags contained... a change of clothes, deodorant, toothbrush, etc. ("In case I get lucky tonight!" one hopeful guy told me)
I was part of... an impromptu group of Pride volunteers who each shared their story of coming out. Then when I was asked if I was gay, I said, "No, I'm paid to be here" and then felt like an ass
We noticed... specific types of gay pairings: the twins, where both gay men dress in the same striped polo shirt, with faux hawk and $50 flip flops; the mid-life crisis, where an older, not-so-attractive-but-clearly-rich gay man is with a much younger version of himself; and the massive amounts of singles pouring in who would take what they could get (I hate to use the ugly word, but... UGLY)
I smelled... way too much beer-and-steak-sandwich breaths in my face
I was terrified... to go into the Porta-potties--not because of the cleanliness factor, but because of the prospect of walking in on a hook-up
I did see every gay person I know, and gave them all a huge hug and told them how excited I was to be there.
All in all, a great gig as an events staff member, and an even greater show of Pride.
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