Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Pride Weekend Part 1

This past weekend was very busy. I'll go over the first part, and then in a later post delve into the juicier second half.

Friday night, the little man, myself, and Tim's lesbianic friend / classmate Jen (she's a hoot!) decided to go to "Queer Guerrilla Bar Take Over". Basically this is a Facebook group that gathers all the gays in the city and goes to a straight bar and makes it a "gay bar" for the night. There is usually a lot of a gay people and confused straight people. We've gone many times before, and usually it is wicked fun. Last Friday it was a bit of a bummer, mostly because the DJ was so horrific. He'd mix 4 songs together, play a snippet of each song, then move on to another abomination to the ears. You could dance fast for 30 seconds to one song, then there would be an infusion of Meatloaf (the singer, not the food) "And I would do anything for love..."

HOW IN THE HELL DO YOU DANCE TO THAT?!

Eventually we crapped out around 1am and went home. I promptly let my head hit the pillow before I had to get up and finish a cake for my friend Joe. His mother had passed away one year ago, and the funeral was held on my birthday (June 23). So it stands to reason that his memorial party was going to be held on the 23rd of June, but of course fate likes to laugh at me and the party was decided to be held on the weekend of pride. The one weekend where all the gays converge on Boston and basically rule the city, I was going to be forced to miss a major chunk of it to go to this Memorial party.

Sigh. I can't really complain, because it is a memorial service, and a friendship is more important than seeing go-go boys wave their bulging speedos in our faces on Boston Common.

So here I am, 8:30 am, frosting a cake with a sweet chocolate grenache (most of which I ate out of the pot) then decorating the cake with pink and white stars. I've done this before, and it makes the cake look like a sea anemone. Sorry I didn't take pictures, I was kind of tired and didn't think of it. Thank God for Coffee.

I finish the cake just in time to jump in the shower, then rush off with Tim to Oak Grove to catch the orange line down to Downtown crossing so we could watch the parade outside of the state house. We like watching it there because it is usually shaded and not that crowded.

Tim's friends eventually met up with us as we witnessed the parade. Free condoms were passed out, as well as various articles on how to keep yourself STD free. Also information on how to help someone in an abusive relationship, as well as (my favorite) free comics from sexy men dressed up in super hero garb. There was the Flash, and Nightcrawler, and Batman. I am so going to Comicopia from now on for all my comic needs! I was also handed a cotton black thong from the Jaggermister float. It was a good time had by all!

Unfortunately, Tim was beaned pretty hard by a flying medallion from the Jaggermister float. As it struck, everyone (including myself) went "Oooohhh!....SfSfSfSfSfSf!!! (that sucking noise you make through your teeth when you witness something painful happening, or when you just got kicked in the shin). He was ok though, and we immediately went back to gawking at the Jagger hotties.

The parade over, the throng of Tim's friends and I made our way through the flamboyant press to Government Center, where the "Festival of Gayness" (as I call it) was taking place. Government center is basically taken over by tons of gay vendors and gay activities. Two years ago I signed up with my gay bowling league there. This year there wasn't much there except more free condoms and other freebees.

I also saw my favorite porn star walking through the crowd. Trevor Knight was just hanging out without his shirt on. I should have gotten a picture.

From here Tim and I went over and had lunch at Whole Foods. They have a really bitchin' salad bar there. You can go and load your plate up with completely un-salad like things like falafel and grilled chicken. After dinning, we decided to go home since we were pretty beat. When we got home, my head hit the pillow and I was lost to oblivion. I woke thinking I hadn't even rested.

I had to rush to get ready to go down to Easton for Carolyn Witt's memorial service hosted by Easton's best: The VFW. Last time I was there it was like walking into the exhaust pipe of a really big Mac truck. Since it is a private club, smoking is still legal there.

I arrived at around 7:30pm, and much to my pleasant surprise, the VFW had become smoke free! Though that didn't stop the old time crusties from lighting up 3 feet from the door and walking outside with a lite cigarette, or actually exhaling their last lungful of black, slightly blue smoke as they came in and sat down next to you. Oh well, can't teach all the old dogs new tricks.

We at hors d'euvers and everyone liked my cake. There was a DJ and dancing, and we watched a movie on the life of Carolyn Witt. Mostly just a montage of pictures, but it was moving and very nice.

I was all set to go home around 9 o'clock so I could meet Tim in the city and go to the Roxie. I wasn't too thrilled about the idea, it was going to be $30 to get in! That's a lot, considering there would probably be crappy music, but you would definitely get to see some sexy men scantily clad and bumping and grinding up against everyone. A few of my friends were going, and I figured that Tim and I would join them considering it only comes around once a year (meaning Pride only happens once a year, and all the gay clubs think "Why not charge the pickle puffers an arm and a leg to get in?! They have extra income!").

I called Tim, and he said "Well, we can go" and I was kind of dragging my feet. I said "I don't really want to, I have the Internet, I can always see naked men there". He said he would pay for me and it would be his present to me, for an early birthday present.
I said that I didn't actually want to go (truth be told) and he said that he didn't either, and I should stay down in Easton with Joe and hang out. So I did.

Joe Witt has the amazing power to make you do things you do NOT want to do. I'd thought I'd developed a certain resistance to him, but in fact I still am a weak willed bastard that acquiesces to everything.
"So we going to RCC?!" - Joe
"I don't really want too... it is late and I have a long drive home. Let's just drink here" - I say
We argue for a bit, and Joe finally agrees to have just one more drink at the VFW before I leave.
Well, that's all it took. That extra 3 oz of Grey Goose got me lubed up, so when he asked "So, we going to RCC?!" I said yes. But only for one drink ;).

RCC or Randolph Country Club is, as you would call it, a gay dive bar. It exists, and it is found in Randolph Massachusetts. On any typical night, you will find a collection of low lives, old people, and confused twenty somethings that haven't realized that there is are better gay bars just half an hour North AND South in Boston and Providence. This place caters to the lazy queer that doesn't want to travel that far from home.

Don't get me wrong, I love RCC. You can drink outside by a pool (Yes, they have a greasy, slimy pool) on nice nights, and I in general have a good time. On a side note, the only people that hit on me there are the very old (65+) or very socially awkward (something ain't right with Billy...). Sometimes the two merge together to create a socially awkward senior who wants me to be his trophy boyfriend.

Thanks, I'm honored. Let me just break up with my hot 27 year old spinner I have at home so I can wipe your ass after I change your diaper, you infirm bastard. How the hell did you get out of the nursing home anyway? Are you lost? I know you are confused...

So here I am, Saturday night at Pride, having a drink with Tabitha, Miss Karen Azulay, and Joe (all men). Exactly where I didn't want to wind up on the night of pride. Fantastic. After being served a revolting vodka tonic (I had forgotten that you DO NOT order the house vodka, gin, tequila, bourbon, scotch, or, in general, house anything) we wandered outside by the pool. I had put down my drink on the bar, and one of Joe and Tabitha's barber friends drunkenly staggered over to us. He was a short little thing, 4 foot nothing and full of groping 40 year old charm. He slurredly tried to sex us up and engage in conversation, but didn't realize that all his sentences were coming out sounding like one long word. "heyaboiswhatssexin?" I think is what he said.
I actually like him, because he drunkenly put down his drink, promptly forgot which one was his, and grabbed mine and downed it. Thanks a bunch! You saved me a hangover of terribleness.

So it is 1 am, and I'm running off very little sleep, so I say goodbye to my friends, and drive the hour home. I have brunch in the morning at 11 am at Dbar in Dorchester the next morning. I'll post about that later on. Phew! That's a long post and it isn't even done!

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