058: I Loves Me A Parade.

Not really.

But, my RED cherry needed popping. Hence I ventured out to check out what this whole hoopla was about. With an ORANGE* in one hand, I left my apartment. With a hop, skip, and a subway ride later, I arrived where it all began. I found a choice real estate on Christopher St. (also known as Stonewall Pl.) and Waverly Pl.—I thought about planting myself on Christopher and Gay, but that just seemed too gay too fast. Although my real estate lacked shades and left me unprotected to the sun's YELLOW rays, I stood right behind the barricade, affording me a great vantage of Lions, Tigers, and Bears, Oh My... I mean, Lezzies, Trannies, and...Bears, Oh My…along with Twinks, Muscle Gods, Brazilians, Leather Men, Go Go Boys, Brazilians… Seriously, I thought Carnival had arrived in New York. Still, I have to admit that I was even more awestruck by the shear number of spectators celebrating Gay Pride Day. Indeed, I can believe New York being called the gay capital of the world.

Now, among the many, many eye candies that went by on the parade, somehow, my eyes fell on a daddy. What a hot, hot, hot daddy! He was in his late thirties, perhaps, and he was holding the cutest baby ever. The baby, while stretching, smacked his dad’s face and the daddy made the cutest face. My heart melted. But then I realized that the baby has another daddy who loves the daddy who stole my heart. (Wow, what an awkward sentence!) And I was GREEN with envy. Then it made me a little BLUE. Not because I wasn’t with the cute daddy, but because I realized that I’ve no one to share this new life of mine with—not that I’m currently looking for a boyfriend, per se… I guess what I’m trying to say is, more than anything, I want a new set of friends who understand intrinsically what I’m currently going through.

So, I had this wonderful idea. I’m going to take applications. Who ever wants to be my new best friend, click here. But wait! I have to warn you, although you would be answering only one question, I need you to think very hard and give a thoughtful answer. Your future destiny, forever entwined with mine, depends on it. Yes, you will have the wonderful pleasure of being a friend to Yours Truly. Yes this package—the neediness, insecurity, borderline neurosis… Yes, yes, yes, all that can be yours to deal with and love. Okay, go on. Click.

In a final note… I hear from a distance a voice. “Hey, you! Hey, you!” I look around, searching for the source, wondering, at the same time, ‘who is he calling out to?’ Then as soon as my eyes meet the face of the source, he shouts, “You’re cute!” I blush. I blush so hard I’m sure I skipped a few shades and went straight to PURPLE.**

Ah, Pride Day.


*Not really. I took a peach, but I couldn't think of anything remotely associated with the color orange during the day. I thought about writing something like "Orange-chu glad..." Like something straight out of a bad knock-knock joke. But that's just lame.
**Okay, I know. You only turn purple when you’re holding your breath and you’re about to pass out. But c’mon, give me some leeway here. It was hard trying to incorporate the colors of the rainbow flag into this poorly written post.

Addendum: Don't you think it'll be cool (please read: lame) for NYC Queer Bloggers to march on the parade as a group? We'll have a float that looks like some coffee shop. We'll get a few baristas and a counter with a big espresso machine; we'll even get Starbucks to sponsor us. While sipping our whatever form of coffees we enjoy... Wait, too hot to sip... while gulping whatever form of frappuccinos we enjoy, we'll do a live blogcast, a minute by minute account of what is happening and how it is making us feel. Some of us will take and post pictures, only of the hotties, of course. By this time next year, podcasting and videocasting will be the new "Black," and we can have so much fun. We'll have a field day... Can't you just imagine?