Chicago Pride 2011 (Part 2)
Posted on June 6, 2011[Continued from "Chicago Pride 2011 (Part 1)."]
There are things one can see at a Pride parade that could be considered “disturbing.” If you’re an uptight, conservative, boring shithead, then most of what you see at a Pride parade is disturbing. I don’t get people who seek out things that will disturb them.
I am not uptight or conservative, and I don’t think I’m too, too boring so most of what I saw was pretty average. People in various states of undress – it was a warm day after all – was to be expected. I saw a guy who looked pretty regular in every way – shorts, t-shirt – except for his scraggly, shitty, black, long-haired wig. It didn’t make any sense to me, but it didn’t need to.
Getting through the crowd was a bit frustrating especially when most of us were politely taking our turns as necessary because every once in a while a group would push their way through. They said polite words as they acted like they were the only ones who had anywhere to be but I still had the urge to smack them upside their sweaty heads.
It was when I was still heading north and still on the west side of the route that I saw something that shocked me. I wanted to take a picture, but that would have been too obvious. I took a mental picture. A mental picture I wish I could now delete. A guy wearing filp-flops had his second and third toes of one of his feet … fused. The toes looked normal in every way except that where most people have a cleavage of skin his toes had not cleaved.
I rushed past him as best I could considering the crowd. I lucked out for a while because I had fallen in behind a couple who were both significantly larger than me; they provided a wide berth that was easy for me to navigate.
Eventually, I came to an intersection where the parade route turned. I was able to go around the route, from the west side to the east side, where I needed to be. I still had to walk south past the point where I had originally gotten off the train; I was walking in a big ovoid.
Once on the east side of the route I again walked another block off the route so I could traverse the several blocks with relative ease. I had brought my usual orange plastic double-walled cup with attached straw filled with water and had been sipping on it throughout my journey. It was about then that I regretted it because I had to go to the bathroom; parades are not the most fun for seated bathrooming.
It was also about then that I began dipping into the jelly shots. They were still cool and still quite yummy.
I have come to rely on the Maps app on my iPhone a lot. Thanks to the Viking. I really would not have been able to find where the fuck I was to meet the PNS boys if it weren’t for that app, especially considering I was having difficulty getting an internet connection at that time. I could see the map and I could see where I needed to be.
I made it to the designated meeting spot. I realized that while I had seen pictures of all three of the PNS Explosion hosts, I wasn’t very confident that I could pick them out of a crowd of thousands. I wandered around a bit and finally saw one of the guys. Thankfully, they host under their real – and full – names because I called out, “Rob Lindley.”
[Continued.]
I swear. True story.
Categories: True Story.
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