As some of you know, I have had a role for the past decade in the creation, execution and hosing into the floor drain the detritus of the annual Halloween Parade in NYC.
What brings it to mind is the impending Summer gathering of the LGBTI crowd and last week's Leather Pride Weekend - all the diverse elements that make this time of year something special.
Special as well is the experience of being trapped between long-in-the-tooth drag queens at the aptly named "Witching Hour" of four in the morning, after the bars close. The scene of this bus accident may have occurred in a corner bodega in Chelsea. It is a barbed reminder that the collective noun for such a group is "A Gaggle of Gays."
"Not crotch, you troll! That's Crow-shay! As in Sash-Aye! Knitasha Croché! Get it right!"
"I'm beautifully twisted and cabled, DAMMIT!"
"Oh my stars and garter stitch! IS THAT FABRIKA???!! She looks mildewed!"
"Honey, take a note! You look home-made---not hand-made. Shop worn is so last year, Sweetie!"
"Pulleeze...shave off those pills! You are an embarrassment to us all!
"WHO-EVA did your hair forgot to turn off the fryer!"
"Get a diet Coke, cause you need a secret formula!"
The odd thing is that they always air kiss, saunter away on shaky heels and sleep it off. We should all take this as example.