Pride…

Today was Pride Day, and I spent most of the day in Durham. I got to the grounds, and the TCW booth with “Upcoming Events” flyers by about noon. After dropping them off, I went to meet Deanna with the EAGLE banner, and the balloons and the helium tank. That tank was a total rip-off and didn’t blow up nearly as many balloons as we wanted it to.

We sold “I see GAY people.” t-shirts at the TCW booth, which seemed to be well-received. Only about 10 people ended up marching in the parade with the EAGLE group. Deanna and I were both pretty discouraged and noted that next year someone else would be organizing this or we wouldn’t be marching as a group.

I saw Gerald there. What a sexy man.

The GFN/Out in America booth that EAGLE helped staff was lame. Basically, two guys drove all the way here from Columbus, OH to hand out a business card that said OUT IN RALEIGH on it, and had an IBM pen attached to it. Not exactly “flashy.”

After the Pride festivities, I surprised Robert by dropping in on him at his weekend job at UNC. What a beautiful smile on him. He was cute trying to retrieve his voice mail message from Waldo. It turns out it was left on his home phone, not his cell phone. He’s going to try and save it for me to hear some time.

Saturday evening Robert came over a little after nine. We met Steve and Jay at Flex at 11:00. It was very crowded in there. We hung out for a little over an hour, then me, Robert, and Jay went to CC’s. Steve stayed at Flex, and evidently spent some time with Mr. Flex Universe or Mr. Leather Raleigh USA or Mr. Wake Raleigh USA Universe.

Entering CC’s, we were met by four guys carrying this totally drunk guy outside. They weren’t so much carrying him as propping him up from falling over. His legs were out from under him, almost sideways. He was so bad off. We went in, and about 20 minutes later, one of the guys brings him into the piano lounge in there, and plops him down on the chair. He was pitiful. Then, to mine and Robert’s horror, people started making fun of him. One guy yelled, “Let me get a picture of him. I work with him.” He then stuck a flash camera right in his face and took two pictures. Then he said, “Hold him up, while I get a shot.” Then the singer, Greg, walked over and sat next to him posing for a “picture with the drunk.” Then the guy who worked with him shouted his name real loud, and the guy struggled to open his eyes and lift his head. Everyone roared while another picture was taken. Robert and I left the room at that point. I said, “I wonder how funny they’ll think this is tomorrow morning when they hear that this guy has choked to death on his own vomit.”

Robert and I danced a dance, and then left around 1:00, since he had to be up early Sunday morning to head out to UNC Hospital to work, and my sister and her husband were visiting in the morning.

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