We had a great time at Pride. We parked at a friend's work building a few blacks from the Pride site, which is about 4 blocks of Pennsylvania Avenue with a backdrop of the Capitol Building. It was a pleasant walk through tourist area to get there, and then a leisurely stroll down and back up the Avenue with the crowd increasing by the minute.
On the culinary side, our friend Sam had a hot dog, my husband Emery a lamb gyro, and I indulged in Polish sausage smothered in onions and mustard. We had become separated from Sam and sat on the curb by a fountain munching on our food until he found us again, bringing along his brother and his husband. Yay, more family.
On our way back up the avenue, Sam and I lost sight of Emery but found him at a local transgender booth with a transactivist friend of ours from the Ingersoll Gender Center in Seattle. Johhny had come east a year ago to work as the NCTE expert on trans-identity issues. Apparently, it didn't work out well; he has left NCTE and will be heading back to Seattle soon, in time to present a workshop at Gender Odyssey over Labor Day weekend.
When we had made our way back to the starting point, we met up with some of Sam's other friends, nice young women. They had done the Pride Parade the night before and had been caught in a torrential downpour. Did I mention young? There were a lot of really pretty young women on the Avenue and some pretty hot young men. Gay young men, but hot, nevertheless. All in all, it was a pretty average group of folks that you might see in any mall in America or Canada. There was even a Vote for MCain booth staffed by Log Cabin Republicans who obviously think the country is in better shape today than 8 years ago. I stopped to exchange a few pleasantries with them but chose to accept an Obama Pride sticker a bit further on.
We ended up at a Starbucks just off Pennsylvania Avenue. While I was waiting for our tea and coffee order, I noticed a fellow come in with a USNA Staff teeshirt. When he came over to the pickup side of the store, I walked over, flashed my Naval Acemy ring and said. "Naval Academy Class of 1960." He clicked my ring with his and said, "Robyn?" I took a closer look at him and said, "Jeff?" It was Jeff P., the founder of USNAOut, the GLBT Naval Academy Alumni group. First time we had ever met in person. Indeed, the world is small, and all roads seem to cross at Pride in Washington, DC.
Now we are home, have rested a bit, and are about ready for dinner. I'm glad we bought a $7 crockpot from GoodWill when we arrived for this four-month work assignment. Maybe this little slow cooked chuck roast will taste like the pot toast from Cracker Barrel. Yeah, right.
Martini, anyone?
Robyn
