Our participation in yesterday’s parade was cut short because of the rain. Even though we brought umbrellas, after a while it was just too much, so we dove from the parade into the crowd and went for a hot cup of tea and coffee and looked on as the parade snaked past.
In the parade Mark did defeat his inhibitions and took his shirt off at one point; mainly because it was too wet, but also because he wanted to. I was never so brave, and to be honest my bony carcass is not much to look at anyway. It’s just ribs and joints sticking out. At least Mark has the muscle-mass to look sexy and interesting.
My jealousy did pop up, and I felt I should have had a flame-thrower to use on everyone who looked at him in anything else than neutrally, in a “He’s mine. Mine, mine, mine so keep your filthy looks and paws off him”-way. For some reason that only brought a laugh and a “you’re cute when you’re jealous, sweetie” from him.
I’m not cute. I am a bony, skinny champion defending what’s mine against the greedy grasping clutches and the depraved hungry wants of the rest of humanity. So there. That said it was fun and exciting to be a part of it during the time which we did take part; two guys in a sea of the weird and out there. Two bland and anonymous additions to a colourful extravaganza.
After we left the parade, and after we warmed ourselves with hot drinks, we went out on the streets again and did some window-shopping before we headed back to the room. Once there we got ready for a night on the town, which we threw ourselves into, although not with complete success.
At one club we stood in line for twenty minutes, and when the bouncer finally deigned to look at us, he just said “not tonight, mates” and let the people behind us in. We certainly weren’t too drunk to get in because we had barely touched alcohol, so I still don’t know why we weren’t let in. Maybe they thought we were too young. Or maybe our clothes signalled that we weren’t part of the right crowd.
Burning with a sense of the innate unfairness of the world, we went to a pub, howling against the injustice of it all, and then tried another club where we did get in. As usual, Mark was always reluctant, and as per usual he wanted to leave after a little while, but I persisted. Sometimes he can get his way, but sometimes I need to get my way, and I wanted to be surrounded by strangers in a dark cavernous club and feel the music rearrange my insides with the beat.
We came home to our room at half past midnight because the main door shut at one, and if we had stayed out later we would have had to wait until seven in the morning until we could get back into the house.
Today we can look forward to more window shopping, and we’ll go out somewhere nice for dinner, and this evening we’ll do things Mark’s way and just sit our arses in one of the gay pubs. Maybe Admiral Duncan. I don’t think I can drag Mark to another club this evening, but I feel like that side of me has been sated anyway.