Saturday, June 21, 2014

Pride 2014

Last night I went on an adventure with a friend from my bookclub named "K". She is a major dancing addict and loves going to clubs, and as I've been wanting to go dancing for a while I agreed to accompany her down to Denver last night. We hit up Tracks which is a dance club specifically for the LGBT group. I have to admit everytime I say that and see it in print the letters rearrange themselves into the acronym "BLT" and then I get hungry and can only think of how tasty a sandwich would be. (SIGH) Does anyone else suffer from this food addict form of dyslexia? Maybe it's just me.

Well, K identifies herself as a bisexual and feels most comfortable dancing at such an establishment. I just like dancing and as long as its not just me out on the floor I don't really care who's with me. So I happily went along. This may shock some of the gentle readers out there but I think I have a very logical viewpoint of the world: here it is in a nutshell before I continue with the tale. I am a heterosexual and thus attracted to men. Very Much! (Sigh, Hugh Jackman!) Ahem... But I know that isn't the case for everyone else. I believe there are really only three types of people and it doesn't matter if you're gay, lesbian, trans, hetero, ...whatever. You are either Type A) Masculine/Dominant/Aggressive/Assertive  B)Feminine/Submissive/Passive or C)Neutral/Equalizing. And here's the math: A and B types are only ever content with each other. And C types are never satisfied with A or B only another C. That's it. It works for any type of relation I've ever heard of from any of my friends or any books I've ever read. If you are a pursuer, you chase a prey. If you are okay doing either task, you are happiest with someone who can switch the tables on you whenever. I figure if three tenses can sum up most terms in languages-then the wording for how to address people is already inherent. Except that English has no singular neuter term for a person, and I refuse to subject people to He/She/It. I'd rather do He/She/Un.

The reason for my diatribe is that K took me to a Pride Celebration. For those not in the know it's THE EVENT of the year for LBGT people to get together and show pride in themselves. I happily support people's right to be themselves, and I'll be honest I wanted to go for many reasons. I wanted to dance, see hot (although most likely gay) men, and the inner drama queen wanted to wear makeup and outrageous clothes like the 80s child I am and blend right in. I also wanted to test a theory. I have been told several times by idiotic men that they thought I was a lesbian or married the first time they met me, so I figured if I showed up and a lot of girls hit on me-it'd prove them right. Well, not to spoil the ending but I did get asked to dance but I'm believing it's more a testament to my feminine charms rather than my hidden (and very unreal) lesbian vibes.

So I got off work and donned my outfit. I wore this cute black tunic top with curvy pockets that made my waist look slimmer and gray leggings. And then I rocked my combat boots laced up to just under my knee. Well, they're not really combat boots. I got them at Hot Topic and they have hearts on the soles of the feet. Hearts! AND my cat Nova chewed one of the laces, the wretch! So I had to play a bit with the lacing to make it look okay 'cuz I have no idea where I'm gonna find a replacement anytime soon. But I felt more like a sexy punk rocker once my outfit was complete. Then I went over to K's house.

K had bought some hair chalk at Walmart. And we proceeded to chalk our hair. Bisexuals have an identifying flag with blue, purple and red stripes so I helped to stripe her really long hair down the middle kind of Pepe Le Pieu style but much more stylishly. In the end her wavy curly hair with the stripes reminded me of the My Little Ponies I used to play with as a kid. She totally rocked it. I decided to be daring and did one red streak over my right temple and a blue streak just over the left part of my forehead. I swooped some hair up and secured it with a clasp and feathers hanging off it. Hair and outfit cinched I felt like Joan Jett channeling Bonnie Raitt. Rock on! *Word to the wise, the chalk goes EVERYWHERE! We got it on our necks and K's shoulder got covered by the end of the night looking like she was covered in wode like some old school Pict. I succeeded in getting some across my forehead like Braveheart but I managed to wash it off before we left Laramie. It was awesome but the bathroom looked like we'd bricked a smurf to death and left his glittery ashes on the floor. Between the color and hairspray our hair looked awesome but totally untouchable. Yuck, what a texture!

We were on the road by 7ish and while K drove I proceeded to put on makeup. It says something about my talent (or lack as of yet) that we were in Loveland, CO...2 hours later before I was done with the makeup. Hwy 287 is not made for eyeliner and mascara! I did the blue eyed look with tons of eyeliner and while my eyes kind of disappeared behind the colors, I wore my artwork with pride. K said I looked hot so I'll admit to a bit of strutting on the short walk to the club. I was so excited!
Tracks is in Denver, but not quite downtown near all the skyscrapers which I have to admit made me a bit relieved. Nothing makes me highly nervous and slightly skittish than that much concrete and numerous floors of people all around me. Yeesh. At first I was struck by all the incredibly beautiful women...who turned out to be quite a lot of men dressed in drag. Which was a little inwardly confusing so I focused instead on the outfits. After a while the costumer in me was puzzled as to how some of the outfits were put on, stayed together or outright defied gravity. So I ended up focusing on shoes. And everyone's shoes were AMAZING!!!! No Exceptions. I'm not a shoe person, but I was intensely envious of all the beautiful footwear I saw. And astounded at how relaxed many people were at walking and dancing around in 6in heels! It was incredible! One side of the club had a Drag Show while the other had a "Women's Party" primarily for lesbians and bisexuals although there were many straight couples who came mainly because it was a great dance club. Regardless of your leanings.
We each paid our $10 entry fee and were marked with a glow in the dark star which smeared a bit looking like a shooting star. Walking onto the floor I was struck by the sight of a sea of women but with the aura of mixed hormones, not many of them were giving off the vibe of estrogen. But what energy was there was vibrant and positively electrifying. I felt pretty clever that I had managed to wedge my phone through the laces of my left boot while the right one held my ID and a small tin of mints. I didn't even need a purse!
K and I had a great time dancing. I had a White Russian from the bar but unfortunately they put way too much Kahlua in it....so it was kind of a Tanned White Russian. I've had better. But the jams were pretty good. The DJ didn't mix it too well. The segues between tunes were a bit jarring and the whole crowd would seem to pause and go to a static bounce in time to the bass until the melody revealed which one of the Top 40 hits was going to play next. The place was lit up with a Roman theme and there were even Go Go dancers. One girl was gyrating with platform stiletto boots which was just astonishing. I kept looking at her transfixed by her great dance moves. I tried to mimic them to a much smaller success but it somewhat worked and I had fun. I ended up giving my glasses to K to put in her purse because they kept sliding down my nose. I found it actually enhanced the experience. All the world boiled down to whether those around me had rhythm or not. It was that simple. With my eyesight everyone degenerated into short or long hair in various heights around my level, and I just danced and smiled. At everyone, because I was having such a great time. I really wished I had my glasses when Cleopatra showed up. I never caught her name but K said she shows up quite a lot. Apparently she's a transgender and K was too polite to inquire about the "severity" of the change. But I can tell you this: she had amazing cheekbones, sweet kind eyes (I'd glimpsed her earlier) and the most stellar pair of shoes in the whole place. They were gold and sparkled! She was dressed in an entire outfit of shimmery goldishness and I'll admit that if K had managed to catch her eye and get her to dance with us I totally would have tried to feel the fabric in the cape because it was awesome and I couldn't figure out what it was made out of. But I guess even in the LGBT community there are minorities and she quickly did a circuit and disappeared. It was the only sad moment. I had been gazing with an unfocused stare (I can't decipher much) and gradually I became aware of a persona in my field of vision and I was drawn to the shinyness. She truly stood out and just as I looked, realized she was what I was looking at, I smiled and tried to get K's attention. When I looked back up, she was gone. It is truly disappointing that heterosexual couples would be so welcome but transgenders would be somewhat ignored in such a place. It doesn't seem right. So Cleopatra, should I end up going with K again to the dance club, feel free to come dance with us you'll be very welcome.

I should mention I was formally asked to dance. It was very sweet. A girl in a dress with long hair came over and asked if she could dance with me. I've danced the guy or girl part in Ballroom classes, and I've danced countless times in a girl's dance circle with all the girls facing in and excluding all others. But strangely the girl did neither and it was slightly odd. We didn't dance as a couple and she didn't stay the foot away denoting the personal space of singles dancing. So we ended up doing the 70's dance called "The Bump" to modern hip hop songs. It kind of cracks me up thinking about it. Eventually my personal space became a little invaded and I looked to K. The girl saw me looking and asked if we were together. Grasping at straws in the face of a minor claustrophobic attack I replied "kinda" and then she excused herself saying she didn't realize I was taken and was soon gone into the darkened crowd. I was a little confused but a little relieved to have some space back to breathe.
At another time, someone else came up to dance with us. Very mannish dance style, short hair, long T-shirt with out any discernible cleavage, in the end it was a glimpse at a feminine bone structure and very long lashes that told me the person was probably a female in nature. I guess my dance moves are alluring but I was just losing myself in the music. She was very interested in getting closer to me but between K running interference and me being more interested in the beat, she soon gave up and went after someone else. Throughout the night the bass got louder and deeper and eventually it reached a point where it rattled your ribcage. Then I took a step back towards the wall and standing on the wooden floor boards I couldn't help the squeal that erupted when the bass dropped another octave and started vibrating my boots! My legs started quivering with each beat all the way up to my hips and then my ribs vibrated in harmony and I just stood there staring at the strobe lights feeling my entire body become alive to the music. I'm sure I looked like I was higher than a kite, but I didn't care it was euphoric and intoxicating.
Towards the end of the night my attention was drawn once more to a couple dancing right next to me, and then I realized there were three. One rather short woman was wedged between two very young, muscular and shirtless men. I was fascinated as guy A was obviously very gay and only interested in guy B who was probably bi and interested in both A and the lady. In the end the lady left with her friends and the two guys danced even closer. At one point guy B made eye contact with me and tried to get me over but I declined by turning my head in K's direction and not making eye contact again. The risk of dancing with them and squealing hysterically or giggling like a little girl were too high, it was better to be the prude and maintain some level of decency. They were very cute though.
On the very last song everyone in the club spontaneously started making out and only vaguely keeping with the rhythm of the melody. K and I just looked at each other and then at the sea of wriggling bodies and said almost in unison "well, this is awkward." We laughed and headed out to the car and then home.
Well, almost home. We made it to the Ihop and had to stop for pancakes. I had French toast with strawberries and bananas which were absolutely horribly drenched in sugar, whipped cream and all sorts of sweetness which was bad for my diet. But I had just danced for 4 hours and frankly I didn't care. That's why leggings have elastic! Happily on a sugar high, I proceeded to chatter K's ear off the entire trip home. We got in at dawn and I immediately got to work shampooing the chalk out of my hair and cleaning myself up. The chalk kept rubbing off and I knew if I slept like that I'd end up with a pink pillow and a blue spotted cat! The makeup was a bit more difficult but I made it and then I went to bed for some much deserved sleep. All in all it was a wonderful evening and I'm ready to go again. Maybe in a month or so, this afternoon reminded me I'm not as young as I was a decade ago. Yeesh! Til the next adventure!
By the way, I totally think I look like Anne Hathaway in these pictures.

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