“Originally, this was an alternative parade,” I remarked to my wife as the third group of bank employees shuffled listlessly by, humbled by the lack of applause.
The dikes on bikes led it off excellently, it must be said, with wonder-woman and everywoman revving phat hogs down 4th. But then came commercials for at least 20 corporations who’d “asked” their employees to promote name recognition I assume – a not-bad idea considering that the crowd must’ve exceeded a hundred thousand.
Some at least got into the spirit; like Chipotle with their cowboy straddling a gyrating burrito “So Big You Can Ride It”. Starbucks made a commendable showing; as did Microsoft’s employees, who got more into the spirit. Uninterestingly enough, Amazon again didn’t do dick for the city.
Neighbors had a memorable float, so did Wildrose, as is expected of the best gay and lesbian clubs in town. The firefighters elected not to display their beefcake, a shame, because it was like 90 degrees out and everyone was dripping and panting for their hoses.
Kudos to the kamikaze bikini squirt gun crew, who flitted up and down the parade, teasing marchers and watchers alike; applause also to pink roller batman, who I swear I saw last week in freemont as black batman – unmistakable physique. A heartfelt thumbs-up to the doggie fetishists with butt plug tails.
But all in all, San Fran Castro wouldn’t’ve been real impressed.
The Mormon Church was there pledging their solidarity; interesting. I suppose they must’ve been angling for that slippery slope. Washington’s first wives were present as well; kind-eyed smiling octogenarians they looked from afar.
From the boy scouts to the whip fetishists, everyone was totally into it. Especially, I assume, the absent Dan Savage.
Even the bike cops sported mardi gras necklaces.
Afterwards at the Seattle Center there was a mile long line to pee. The A/C was sweet but the real fun was in getting soaked in the fountain. A competent D.J. rocked rave tracks and several flocked… but the problem was not enough people were on enough drugs; but that’s okay, there’s a time and a place for that, it was a family affair, predicated upon respect.
Chock a block with vendors’ stalls; all manner of entrepeneurs selling all kinds of shit: kudos to the guy with the $1 cool water, my wife was just talkin bout how thirsty she is. Marijuana perfumed the air, as it does at every Seattle public gathering now.
Shoulder to shoulder “wieners, penis popsicles for sale”!
It was almost weird being a straight couple there. Don’t get me wrong, we were totally welcomed (if a bit swept to the edges): one very sincere dude even stopped us and thanked us from the bottom of his heart for our support. To which I of course replied: we just came for the flesh bro- whatever.
Not much naughtiness in the end; lots of partners with kids. That’s what gay has become in Seattle: no big deal. Another majority-held value, to which everyone is rushing to associate now that it’s mainstream.