I was planning on having a very quiet weekend and just getting some work done on the second draft of the play, but then Evil Alex texted yesterday to ask if I wanted to go see the Pride parade today. I haven't been to Pride for years and years, and I was ahead with my writing, so I said yes. Glad I went, it was a fun day out in the sunshine (lots of sunscreen but the back of my neck still feels a bit sore - Alex says my hair's got sunbleached but I can't say I can see it.) As for Pride it was much as I remembered it, except Lady Gaga and Glee
didn't exist the last time I went so the music was marginally different. But lots of the serious politics in with the major campery, and plenty of those people who dress up like women but aren't completely convincing - you know, lesbians. As you can tell from the fact that I'm home doing a blog about it, we didn't stay very late - there's only so long that two teetotal people continue having fun once everyone else starts getting drunk... I didn't take a ton of pictures but here's just a few that I took of the parade.
I met Alex at Oxford Circus; just Alex of course, as I think has long been established, his and Stephen's secret for a successful marriage is to never be seen together in public. The parade had already started, we'd missed the gay firemen but as we had to walk quite a long way down Regent Street to get to the front of the barriers, we caught up with them. Which is just as well, because as you can imagine there's a reason a couple of gays wouldn't want to miss that:
Fire engine! Wooh-wooh! With lights and ladders and everything! Aw, I bet Alex'll be a terror to get to sleep tonight, running around wanting to be a fireman when he grows up.
Obviously, it being a Pride parade, everyone was sensibly dressed.
And then there were some rugby players. I can't imagine
what possessed me to take a photo...
Rather improbably, the fittest men in the parade were the ones advertising Nando's...
...although I have a sneaky suspicion that they're slightly misrepresenting what a Nando's-only diet will do for your body.
And then near the end, there was this bloke, who looked like he was maybe regretting the stilts...
A lot of the people on the march were giving out stickers and flyers; Alex said we should compete over who got the most stickers stuck to us, but I put my foot down and insisted that since he only declared this competition after
he had a head start, it was invalid. You've got to keep an eye out for him cheating like that - there's a reason he's called Evil Alex. I did get a few stickers though - it seems I've found the one place where my "Sluts Are People Too" T-Shirt is actually appreciated.
Afterwards there was an event in Trafalgar Square which we just about squeezed our way through the crowds to; mainly because I needed the loo. One of the few events where the queue for the gents' is as bad as that for the ladies'. Alex waited outside - I think he was worried things might be terribly debauched in the Trafalgar Square public loos but a bloke calling out "I hope you're all looking at each others' cocks!" was about as raucous as it got. Actually, thinking about my circle of friends, why am I surrounded by gay people who are terrified of loos with other gay people in them? A few weeks ago I had to accompany Nurse Dave to the gents' at the Rose & Crown 'cause he was scared someone might come in and make a pass at him. Which is a bit rich since he proceeded to practically hump the leg of everyone in the pub. But I digress. Basically all my friends are weirdos, but, like, in a way that totally doesn't reflect badly on me And That.
Not fussed about anything that was going on there, we walked up to Soho, where Old Compton Street and a couple of surrounding roads had been cordoned off from traffic. That was even madder if anything, and once we got to the Rupert Street end we had got hungry by that point so popped down to Shaftesbury Avenue, looking positively deserted in comparison, and had some noodles at Samurai. Then we waded back through OCS which had got even busier, and bordering on the aggressive, so, after a diversion to Covent Garden so Alex could use a less busy public loo, and so I could show him where David & Goliath, the shop where I got my T-shirt is (see I told you it was a hit) we went back to Trafalgar Square. And promptly left again. See, the good thing about not drinking alcohol at these things is you don't feel the need to stand in a bar queue 20 deep. The bad thing is, after a while you're in a sober minority and there's not much left to entertain you. So we went to our bus stops - along the way Alex suddenly said that some guy had been eyeing me up. Obviously he didn't say this in time for me to do anything about it - he is
evil, after all.
Anyway, glad I went, it had been too long. Maybe another trip next year, but plan it in advance so there's a few more of us? I did spot a few familiar faces but only for a quick hello. Now, I'll just try to get over the crushing disappointment that dozens of cute boys somehow forgot to throw themselves at me.