HAPPY GAY PRIDE DAY!!!

Here's a story from one of my most fucked up Pride Fests(1992). It was about 12 noon and I was positioned at the corner of Christopher Street and Gay Street (how's that for pride!). I was sweating bullets from the night before. These two Latino guys had this punch in a cooler and offered me some. I looked at the line of people waiting to enter the Korean Grocer and so I accepted and refilled my cup generously. I remember a few floats and marchers, and then we fast forward to about 10:34 pm where I was now about 25 feet from my apartment. I swear to you that at that second I could not remember the step I had just taken or the approximately 9 and a half hours that came before that. It's like I just snapped back into reality at that second. I got up to my apartment and proceeded to get ready for a shower. I untied my 19 holed Doc Marten boots and then slid down my jeans to discover that my underwear were suspiciously missing in action. I started freaking out, knowing dam well I had a pair on in the am, and how come my shoes (such a hassle undoing them) were not askew? I emptied my pockets and I discovered that I had about $240.00 on me. A sum that I knew I did not have with me when I left the house. I washed myself in the shower inspecting my body very closely for any signs of; well, anything. At the time I worked very close to where I had first situated myself at the parade, and for the next couple of days at work, I was expecting someone to approach me saying, "Hey, I saw you Sunday." I had really hoped for this to happen because as with flying to Europe, I had just lost 9 hours of my life to some kind of third dimensional strippers pole or something.