My Memorial Weekend

Okay so I had a fun time at pride, I met people, got life, and more importantly just had a good time. Friday was the start of it, and it started off really sorry. I went to this speed dating, and I was number 2 in joint, I’m a punctual person, then I saw this group of six fine men. I mean the type of fine that makes your back straight, and you try not to make eye contact for fear of being caught staring at them. For a minute there I got real excited because I ordinarily would not talk to any men who looked that good. Why, because I don’t know what to say, and I’m intimated. But they left, then I had the urge to leave as well, especially once I saw the cast of characters that entered the venue. Before I go any further, I must say that looks are not everything to me, seriously they are not. But you MUST take care of yourself, and have something to say.

The speed dating gets started I have an okay conversation with the guy in front of me, we talk about books, and I recommend a few for him to read. Then the next turn, I have no one in front of me, okay I think well maybe everyone will have any empty turn. But then the same thing happens the next turn so I take it from a sign from God and leave.

After leaving I head over to the fireplace. Curiously, I saw a lot of older men, I mean not the “30’s are they new 20’s” type but the Geratol crew the type of guys that the fireplace was the beginning and end of their night. Being that I took the MARC train and was not in the mood to drive back to DC that night for pride. The rest of the night I spent in Baltimore.

The next day I called Rashid and we set up a time to meet in the lobby of the host hotel and take the day as it came. Prior to leaving, I took care of home first, washing clothes, cleaning the house, and gardening.

After getting my Victory garden together I drive to DC, find the BEST parking spot, and make my way in my fashionable hood boy outfit, see the photo below. As I make my way to the hotel, a group of young homosexuals try to get my attention by using saying the title of the latest southern anthem “Ay Bay Bay”. Doing my best to ignore their cat calls I go into the host hotel and find Rashid sitting in a talk about Young Gays. It was interesting; I was cutting up in the meeting, because the idea of masculine gay men trying to justify their reluctance to help younger gays before the young ones seem too “cunty” is funny to me. I mean the idea that people are shunning effeminate gay men, and those young kids who do drag and are in groups like SMYAL for fear of being labeled. Don’t realize if it was not for Gays of years ago, many of whom could not “hide” their sexuality due to their naturally effeminate nature, many of the things like prides, clubs not getting raided, able to carve out safe spaces like Dupont Circle, the Village, San Francisco, et al. But it was cool.

Then Rashid and I start talking about people in the hotel, or the lack of eye candy thereof. Well not Rashid so much, mainly me, and frequently, I get very uncomfortable when I’m one of the better pieces of eye candy when I go someplace. But other than that, the time in the hotel flew by until it was time for the American Idol DC Pride version (read glorified Karaoke).

So this is when I learn that American Idol reject turned Broadway Actress Frenchie Davis is a big bitch. Big not in size but in grandiose mannerisms, she acted like every other bitter butch queen. She was not just chopping people because they could not sing, but she would go off on these tirades as to why she is frustrated with the current music industry. I mean damn, chick save all that for when your record comes out, which is when? Exactly, someone needed to give that chick a reality check that her attitude was not becoming of someone on the come up, which she still is regardless of what her friends may say.

While in the lobby I met three guys, one from South Carolina, thick and handsome, another one from Niger living in NYC, short dark and exotically good-looking, and a Nigerian living in ATL, thick bald, with a face like a model. Before I start to blog about them let’s see if they last more than 3 weeks.

Sunday was pretty quiet I stayed in my house and enjoyed the Lords Day. Monday I went to the Fort Dupont Park and realized two things. Gays travel in packs and Lesbians roll DEEP. Maybe due to the fact that many of the men were in San Juan, and in Miami, but the lesbians were almost outnumbering the gays, I thought I was back in Baltimore for a while. Unlike many people I roll solo most of the time I roll to any club, event, mainly due to the fact that I don’t have too many, hell any gay friends in area anymore, my only two have left, and Rashid was not really wanting to go to the park on Monday.. So instead of sucking my thumb and crawling in the fetal position, I go out by myself. It always was funny to me that so many people travel in packs nand stay in packs and stare, hard like a hungry man seeing his first porterhouse steak.

All in all I enjoyed myself, do I have a desire to go to San Juan or Miami next year, no. I like DC’s pride and prides that actually have events that you can learn and commune with others who are of your same sexuality without it revolving around the art, act, and modes of sex.