Prideful Nun, part 3

[sistawendy]

Went to my second annual pah-tay with the Siberian Siren & her partner A at the SS's hair salon, Collage, on 5th Ave. Best piece of Pride gear: a BiBi-8 t-shirt. Yes, BB-8 in bi Pride colors, worn by one of many cute queer black women about half my age. As always, first rate food & booze because (co-ed) urban queers.

The parade is on 4th Ave. Since it's such a long parade, I don't feel too bad about missing the beginning & end of it. Indeed, A & I agree that the best part of watching the parade was watching the Siren watch the parade. Here's this hardass, hard-headed Russian, who in many ways has had a hard life, turning into a wildly enthusiastic child right before our eyes. Happiness.

The SS didn't want to do the sardine scene that is the Seattle Center, at the end of the parade route. She was under the impression that there was more Pride-related stuff happening on Capitol Hill than there turned out to be. Nevertheless, we still had a lovely walk, yummy dinner at Chop Shop*, and Molly Moon's for ice cream. (That last was my idea. It's a personal Pride tradition.)

Oh: there were four of us. A & the SS had a houseguest, H, a younger bi woman who was crashing under their stairs, Harry Potter-style. She was raised very Jewish, so talking about it with H was a weird blast from my past. Her advice: don't be a tall or fat straight woman in Israel; her sister is both.

One member of Chop Shop's staff, a fellow with an accent that may have been east European, tried to direct me to the men's restroom. Not happening. H was right behind me in the women's, and I asked her, "Did I just experience a transphobic bummer?" She said, "Yup."

Netflix and chill at the SS's place. This is not a euphemism for a lesbian orgy, for better or worse; we really did watch TV & veg out for a while. I took the train to the UW, then the 44 to Fremont and walked the rest of the 30+ blocks home so I could burn some ice cream and watch the sunset from Phinney Ridge.

For Pride next year:

• I've never been to R Place. Yeah, I know it's huge and full of kids and lowest-common-denominator music, but I have to do it once, right?
• Dimples & Blondie are not wrong about the Wildrose: it's better for dancing than drinking on Pride. The gay men's joints, e.g. Purr, the Cuff, and Pony, might be a better option.
• The Merc on Pride didn't suck. seelenschwester did a Lambert House benefit, which is of course dear to my heart. But I'm a regular at the Merc, so it seems somehow un-Pridelike.
• If I'm going to take a lady friend home, it needs to be well before midnight. I'm too old to stay awake otherwise.
• For heavens sake, mass transit from the Hill is useless after 0030.

*Our waiter was a chatty beardo, and the food was oh so hip & hipster. But damn, it was good, and the price wasn't out of line. I'm so conflicted when I eat at places like that.

Comments

[randomdreams.livejournal.com]

That sounds like a 96% lovely time.
"purr" is a gay men's joint? Somehow that seems off.

[sistawendy.livejournal.com]

It definitely is. I've been in there a few times. It occupies the space that the Vogue, a Goth joint one of whose owners is a self-described transvestite, did prior to 2009.

Purr is one of the classier, mellower gay joints. For the full on in-your-face-and-up-your-butt gay bar experience with every stereotype imaginable, I'd suggest Pony. The Cuff, as the name suggests, caters to the leather crowd. I gotta tell you, though, that of those three, I'm only comfortable walking alone into Purr. I attract... attention in the other two.

[randomdreams.livejournal.com]

Ugh, that's super awkward.