Dykes on Bikes

I went to my first gay pride this weekend.

My friend Shane came down from Wisconsin on Thursday to see me and take me to my first gay pride parade. So on Saturday, we headed off early to get good seats.

First we attended the parade which was a BLAST! The festivities were opened up by a group of motorcycle riders called “Dykes on Bikes.”

Evidently they are a big deal, because the crowd went wild! We waited in anticipation on the curbside spot we had staked claim to and all of the sudden, the roar of the engines could be heard, and then up they drove.

WOW! Some were old, some were young, but I have to say, as a full fledge heterosexual woman, who loves her some penis, these women were HOT! There was something about the roar of the crowd, the women in leather that was very arousing to the senses. Okay, enough with the lesbian infatuation.

The parade lasted a long while and then we walked over to the festival in the park. There were masses of beautiful people. And when I say beautiful people, I am talking about scantily clad men, who wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. Not a backwards glance, a nod, nothing. Now we are talking about men wearing no shirts, jeans with the ass cut out and muscles galore. Exquisite, chiseled, tanned and glistening. Yum-ee.

Lots of stuff to see, lots of people to watch. I was in my element. Especially since I rarely get out of the house anymore. This was considered a BIG outing for me.

We ate bad fair food that we paid way too much for and walked around browsing through the many booths. THEN we went to a section that you had to be at least 18 years old to enter. I was pretty excited about what I was about to see. It was a fairly small area with just a couple of booths. The first one a piercing place that had pictures of what you could get pierced. Who knew people pierced these parts of their bodies? Certainly not me, but I still looked at the pictures, cringing and grimacing the entire time.

The next booth sold porn and had the actual stars of the video there. Young, nubile men with that “V” thing going on in the nether regions…..damn that “V” thing gets me every time. The place was swarming with men who wanted their pictures taken with them, so we moved on.

Dirty and tired we came home, showered and crashed.

The next morning, to round out the weekend, we went to a Gospel Drag Queen brunch at this place called Lips. Now come on, who doesn’t love a drag queen? All I really want to know is, where in the hell do they put their “junk” and how can I possibly get cleavage like they have? It was so much fun. I want to come back as a drag queen in my next life. Or maybe, a dyke on a bike, I can’t decide.