Pride Night

Last night I went out to West Hollywood again. It was pure madness. People in groups were everywhere. Big and small, cute and ugly, men and women, they were all out in full force. The bar we went into was packed to the max. It was impossible to stand somewhere without getting pushed or asked to move. Yes I knew the area was going to be busy because Gay Pride began this weekend. I just didn't anticipate this level of explosiveness! It felt joyous to witness the insanity, at the same time, exhausting to be in the middle of it. I realized I made the wrong decision to come. I couldn't handle it. I called PK and asked him to come rescue me. He was very sweet and kind to say yes. So I walked from the busiest clubs on Santa Monica to the corner of Melrose and Orlando, hoping to save PK from driving into the chaos that is West Hollywood. My feet were sore after walking a mile or two in a pair of flip-flops, but I didn't mind. I had to escape.

After I hopped into his car I started to tell PK what happened. I oddly found myself feeling excited about the whole thing. When I was recounting the details of the evening I was lively and very animated. I supposed even though I didn't enjoy the actual party, I liked the idea behind it. And now I know what it's like, I won't go near it again.