Now Boarding. No Shame Baggage Allowed.
OK. So I thought I was blasé – and beyond gay. Therefore, I’ve blown it off for years now because it was just too ‘obvious’. But gee, did I find myself literally standing outside City Hall on the sidewalk for a way delayed 1 hour and 17 minutes before The Gavinator finally took his perch on the balcony tonight? And then unfurl the Pride Flag? For what took all of 2 minutes? Uhm, yeah. that was me. And yeah, I was clutching my camera, timing the best shots before the battery died completely. Still didn’t capture a great one though. Still would never take what took place for granted these days.
[More biscuit-chasing representation after the jump.]
As much as fags wanna throw up the armor against all social attack, the slightest telegraphing of acceptance – let alone from public office – and we’re all gussied up and there. Cuz I bumped into several fellow queens who ordinarily would never cop to such sentimentality… wearing Mardi Gras beads… This, all the while that ‘Camped-Out Sad Fundamentalist Chick’ was literally advocating God’s forgiveness for us across the crosswalk the entire time. With a mic and speaker system. Anyhoo, I was glad I went. Hammered home doubly so when, snugly back in the (OK I won’t say ‘womb’) of the Castro, I randomly chatted up “Tokyo Tourist Guy” at The Midnight Sun. Who couldn’t get over how sincere, attractive and approachable all these homos were. (And he didn’t even know it was Pride Week. He had an over-night layover to kill.) He honestly started asking me how much money he should have saved if he wanted to move here…
If all this, frustratingly and incompletely, still doesn’t illuminate just why you and I moved here, maybe hang around SFO and do some impromptu pre-departure flight interviews this coming Monday or Tuesday – and ask the profilingly fruity crowd – what they think. It might not make it through Homeland Security, but it’d at least be an eye-opener.