dykes on bikes and a return to the cave

At the recommendation of B, one of the organizers of the monthly women's munch at the Wildrose, I went to a coffee joint a not-short walk from my house. I learned:

• This city may not have any biker bars left, but it has a biker coffee joint called Two Kick Cafe. Oh, Seattle.
• There's a national organization called Dykes On Bikes that started in 1976! I had no idea they were that... organized.
• The event at the coffee shop was a fundraiser. Yes, I bought a miniature painting of a geoduck squirting a rainbow. It was one of dozens by that artist, many of which were hilarious.
• I might not have a thing for biker women but there was no shortage of women there who gave me the vapors, sometimes the bikers' partners.
• B, there in her Washington State Ms. Leather sash, introduced me tho the leadership of the Seattle chapter of Dykes On Bikes. They told me what I'd heard before: if I want a ride, show up at 4th & Union at 0900 (ungh) on Pride Sunday and maybe it'll happen.
• B said that if I don't get a ride, I'm welcome to march with the Leather contingent.

I've already contacted the Siberian Siren about Pride Eve, so I might (again) not be in any condition to be at the parade route that early. We'll see.

After three months I returned to the Mercury. I think I'm out of practice: I didn't quite make it to 2300. In my defense, I'd been walking and standing a lot yesterday. But at least I got to see A&J and Vienna La Rouge. Have I mentioned how weirdly comfy it is to talk to a cis woman whose eyes are at exactly the same level as mine? Vienna was there with a tiny butch date. De gustibus non disputandum.

Edited to add: Waliking down Nickerson on the way home from the Dykes On Bikes, a younger woman complimented me on my hair (All credit to Adi Chen!) and we basically shot the shit all the way to 35th St. It was nice!