The parade segment of the weekend followed the typical template, meeting friend Pro-J at Fifth Avenue and Twenty-second Street and working our way down the parade route. Our entourage swelled and collapsed like a silicone implant as we slowly proceeded down Fifth.
Knowing that the people I wanted to see would be, no doubt, below Fourteenth Street, my goal was to speed through Chelsea. Others in our contingent were more Chelsea-centric and held us back to introduce us to what must have been 26 Michaels and 14 Kevins. This constant starting and stopping put us in lock-step sync with the parade, meaning that for the entire time we had been 'entertained' by Klezmer-pop from a Jewish gay group and assailed with Hallelujahs from the God Made Me Gay float.
Both floats broadcast their religious themed/inspired/tarnished tunes at blasphemous levels. Conversation were difficult; cell calls impossible. Eventually the dischord convinced the majority (actually all but me) to abandon the parade at Sixteenth. Thrilled with my chance to hurry downtown, I grabbed a choco-vanilla swirl cone and was soon met by T-Dog at Thirteenth.
After grabbing pizza at Two Boots, we took off into the West Village and caught back up with the parade. Just in time to see the same two floats blare pass by yet again.
