Prideful times

Friday night, I met up with Roze and Victoria at Tsunami near Mission Bay. The food was excellent, but the service blew. Roze and I got there first (in her awesome new ride), and had to tell the maitre d' and waitress about three or four times that we were a party of three. Then people who got there after us were seated first. We waited at the bar for Victoria, and as the bartender was shaking a drink, the glass broke, shattered, and ice went aflyin'. We weren't harmed or wet, but he didn't have a sense of humor about it at all, or even offer us a free drink because of it. Then the waitress fucked up our bill, charging us each half instead of splitting it three ways. You'd think these people were novices, but oh well.

Then it was off to Supperclub, for which I felt terribly under-dressed. Or, well, just not as interesting or fun as most of the other attendees: hipster alterna-homos and drag queens. But I was there to see Lady Kier, and determined to get through the predictable shock rock drag queen quartet, and chicken costume-wearing freak whose performance including throwing eggs at the audience (I kept the crate) to see my girl.

And just as I was getting fed up and wanted to leave for the End Up, there she was at the bar. I quickly grabbed Dascha who'd met up with us and had a camera, and approached Kier. I told her I loved her, she flipped around and struck a pose with me, then tended back to her drink before manning the booth and spinning some funky shit.

Saturday, Zeke came over with a friend to drop off a copy of the lease and the move- in check. He appeared to be a bit buzzed in honor of Pride, which was all well and good and made me think, This'll work. We exchanged the papers, and I sent him on his way.

Sunday was the Pride festival, and Dascha--who is moving back to Connecticut in August, so this will be her last Pride--met up with me at Powell, and we jointly trekked to Civic Center. She had unwisely neglected to bring a to-go drink, so we had to stop off at a corner store for some Southern Comfort and Diet Coke, but once we got there, we hung out at the hip hop stage for a time, desperately tried to find LG to no avail, then realized were at the wrong stage because the Backstreet Boys were at the main stage.

We hightailed it over there in time, barely seeing them through the crowd, but sang along to "I Want It That Way". They sang their two songs, got ten bucks apiece, probably got a couple free gay blowjobs somewhere along the way, and went home. Everyone was happy.

I am somewhat recovered, and back in high stress mode at work. I wish I could fast forward through the next two months because they're not going to be fun.