Pride this year was very much the same as last year. Just like last year, I showed up for the Bloody Mary bar at Red Cap and couldn't get in because I lost my drivers license the night before. (Turns out it was at home in my pants pocket) So, I had to sneak into the bar by going underneath the special guardrail they set up to keep evil drinkers away from the sidewalk crowd.
I was very emotional during the Sunday parade, just like I was last year. Granted, I had been up until 4:30 a.m. on Saturday night, so that could account for some of my tears. Then again, it doesn't take much to make me cry. I knew I was in trouble when the first group of the parade made me cry. I will never live down the shame. I cried when the Dykes on Bikes showed up, and it wasn't because of their haircuts.
So there I am at Red Cap watching the parade and crying and missing my driver's license just like Pride 2003.
Everything changed when I entered the Waterfront Festival and a man yelled, "Hey! Didn't I see you NAKED on Thursday night?"
In the beer garden, more men were coming up to me to discuss my performance, and I felt flattered by their compliments. But in the back of my mind I kept thinking, "they saw me dragged across stage naked with handcuffs and a blindfold..."
Yes, Pride was much different this year. I am popular and famous. As The Executive put it, I am a "minor local celebrity" (when he says things like that I take it as a compliment, though there is a very real possibility it may be a backhanded one). When I get the $400 check from my performance I am going to hire a driver and a maid and have a pool installed in the backyard of the house I rent.
I am also much bolder than I was a year ago. I remember being very shy and intimidated last year at the Pride Party held by Yum Yum Marco and his partner, The Supremely Hot and Beautiful Studmuffin (do you like THAT name better, F?) I was afraid to talk to all the hot men attending this event. This year I worked the crowd. I talked to anyone and everyone. I made fun of Sam Adams because he couldn't figure out how to spell my name. (I'm totally voting for him thought) I pulled down The Dancers pants. I wasn't afraid. I love feeling confident. While chatting on the phone last night, Andy said I was the Belle of the Ball. Oh, Lord, if Marco gets wind of that I am in so much trouble. Everybody knows HE is the Belle of the Ball. I may have overstepped my bounds.
I think I need to move away from Portland. Otherwise next year I will wreak havoc on Portland Pride 2005. I will storm the stage during the comic's set and grab the microphone from her. "I'm funnier than you, bitch..." I'll ask that people at the Pride Party avert their eyes when speaking to me. I'll hold a drawing to choose the lucky winner who gets to come home with me.
One thing is for sure...I'm sure I'll lose my driver's license again.