What an awesome, awesome day.
The weather was perfect for a parade. There was a chance of rain, but it never rained. At times the sky got overcast, but it was mostly sunny. The temperature was mild with a cool breeze. At times it was hot, but there was no humidity at all.
At around 11:15 in the morning I arrived at 56th Street between Madison and Fifth to meet up with the Twentysomething people to march in the parade. I got a free t-shirt, which I wore. There were about 25 of us. We stood around until just after 1:00, first waiting for the parade to start and then waiting for our turn to start marching. While we waited, we were right near the people from Urban Outings, as well as the Xena Warrior women (those people can really ululate), and the Gen-X Bears, and the Gay Video people. There was a man wearing only a thong and high-heels. There was a guy wearing a short gold lamé skirt with no underwear, though I think he had a cock ring. I know this because I saw him bend over. And there were drag queens everywhere, looking absolutely amazing. And New York mayoral candidate Mark Green came over to us, wearing a button-down shirt and khakis, and I got to shake his hand. And he patted me on the back. And I think I saw former Massachusetts governor William Weld, standing by himself in a shirt and tie, enjoying the mild weather and watching us get ready to march. A double-decker bus of bewildered tourists rode by and we cheered at them.
I noticed the cute blond guy from Wales arrive. To refresh your memory, I met this guy on Tuesday night at Twentysomething, and then I saw him again at Date Bait on Thursday night, where we briefly said hi. I’d put him down as someone I was interested in, but he hadn’t put me down, and I left that night with no matches. Anyway, there he was today. As we all stood around waiting, he was on the other edge of our group from where I was, so I went on talking with my friend Jay. We pointed out hot guys to each other as they walked by.
Finally, Wales and I made eye contact, and I waved, and he smiled and came over and said hi. We talked for a little bit, and then Jay joined in, and then it was (finally!) time to start marching, and the three of us continued chatting as we all began to walk.
We were all wearing our white t-shirts. Jason, one of the officers and a big guy, wore his t-shirt and a big yellow tutu. He marched in front of our banner and waved a big rainbow-striped American flag while a few guys twirled long rainbow-colored ribbons in synchronicity. We turned onto Fifth Avenue and began marching. People behind the police barricades cheered. There were also three pathetic-looking people holding placards imprinted with all the reasons why we were on our way to hell. We clapped and cheered at them, and then one of our guys turned to them and yelled, “God hates stupid people!” at which point we clapped and cheered some more.
As we marched, Wales and I wound up talking a lot. At times I’d straggle behind, talking with Jay or with someone else, and I’d see him glance back. Then I’d catch back up to him and we’d talk again about the parade and about the cool sights and about the people on the sidelines. And it turns out he lives in Jersey City, just one PATH stop before my own. He’s here on a one-year visa as part of a British program that sets people up with jobs in the U.S., and he lives in an apartment with five other people. Whoa.
In front of us was a float of scantily-clad women from Shescape. Behind us was a float of drag queens from Lips. And over the course of about three hours we marched all the way down Fifth Avenue. Past St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Past Rockefeller Center. Past the New York Public Library. Past the Empire State Building. Among the Lips drag queens were Wonder Woman, Jeannie, Elvis, and Liza Minelli. While we were stalled at the Empire State Building, Liza stood on top of her float and lip-synched to “New York, New York.” She looked like Liza Minelli on crack. She did an incredibly dead-on impersonation, and at the end of her song the crowd went wild. So did we.
We began to move again, continuing through the 30s, and then down through the 20s. As we approached Chelsea, the crowds grew larger and the cheering grew louder. It was so moving and heartwarming to see and hear them — I felt like we were coming home. Jay and I pointed out a plethora of hotties to each other. We marched down through Chelsea, finally reaching the arch at Washington Square Park, where we turned right and continued marching into and through the West Village, eventually turning onto Christopher Street, that most fabled of yellow-brick roads. As we marched along Christopher Street the crowds grew even larger and even louder and even more manic. I wanted to cry, it felt so great. And there were even more hotties than before.
Finally we reached the end of the parade, and we turned onto Hudson Street (where I saw a Boy Scout wearing a rainbow-colored fastener on his ascot and felt like cheering and giving him a great big hug). Our entire group decided to find food somewhere — good fucking luck. But after walking around for a while we managed to find a place. We sat down, taking up several tables. Wales and I had our own table. He looked at the menu and after a few minutes decided that he didn’t feel like buying a ten-dollar hamburger, and on top of that he really wanted to go back out and walk around and watch the rest of the parade. He said I was welcome to join him, and of course I said sure, so we said goodbye to everyone and we left.
We picked up some cheap sandwiches at Subway and then walked back up Seventh Avenue, maneuvering through the crowd, watching the rest of the parade. We found a less crowded spot just off the route, where we sat on the curb and ate our sandwiches and talked and watched the last few floats. The crowd cheered so loudly when the gay police officer contingent marched by towards the end.
We got up and decided to walk west along Christopher Street to the river. Whoops. We got stuck in a big crowd of people and had to wait behind some police barricades so they could let some of the traffic go by. And then it happened. I’d been just fine all day. I’d eaten only a piece of bread in the morning and a pretzel in the afternoon and had drunk very little water. But the Subway must have done it. Suddenly I needed to find a bathroom. Uh-oh. Fortunately we found a line of porta-potties (porta-loos, as Wales called them), and everything turned out okay. Whew.
We made our way to the river, but although there was a big crowd, there really wasn’t much going on. Wales suggested we go to Chelsea and have a drink at a pub (I mean a bar), so we continuing walking up West Side Drive along the river and then walked east and into Chelsea. We had a beer at Barracuda and talked for quite a while. Then we went to View Bar and we each had another drink and continued talking. It was almost 9:00 and he had to go home and take care of some things, so we walked to the PATH and rode it home. We exchanged phone numbers and e-mails and he suggested we go out to some bars next weekend. He offered to invite a couple of other people from Twentysomething he knows as well. At about 9:25, we arrived at his stop and he got off the train and I continued on my way.
When I got home I looked in the mirror and noticed that I’d got a little bit of sun. Not a whole lot — I’d put on sunblock — but enough to give my face a nice, healthy glow. And you know what? I looked pretty damn good.
Anyway, what does it all mean? I don’t care what it means. It means I’ve made a new friend. Meaning doesn’t matter here. All that matters is that I had an amazingly wonderful day. There were gay people in singles and in couples, of all shapes and sizes and colors. White, black, Asian, Hispanic, old, young, with kids, without kids, thin, fat, wearing clothes from the Gap, wearing tank tops, wearing dresses and thongs and chaps and leather vests and police uniforms and boas and scary makeup. I’d never had an experience like this before, and I loved every moment of it. Today it felt like the whole world was gay.
And — for just one day — it really, really was.