Well, we or should I say I didn’t make it down to the park this weekend for PRIDE. Charlie decided to leave for Florida on Saturday to go help her folks (who are safe and didn’t sustain much damage where they were). Saturday, I rode her bike to this neighborhood music fest and met up with Link and Stiletto to watch Rooster and Shutter’s band play. Soon as they were done playing I took off for home on the bike. I fed the dogs and went out to grab a pizza for dinner.
While eating pizza, the dogs and I watched Sex and the City reruns on Amazon Prime. I really didn’t think it had been that long since it first came out but watching Season 1 (1998) I felt like I was watching something that surely was filmed in the 80’s. There was big hair, cigarette smoking [everywhere], the twin towers in the background, cell phones that flip open and home phones.
I never noticed this when watching the show previously but every time one of the girls met a new character they were dating Carrie would narrate their qualifications, “up-and-coming Manhattan furniture designer Aidan Shaw….” When you watch episode after episode you start to figure out the Sex and the City template. First, a topic is presented and Second, Carrie writes a line about the topic with a question at the end and finally the question is answered in the end based on the episodes actions.
The formula was so sound that it carried on for six seasons. In the end, Carrie and the girls would eventually settle down and move on with their lives – end of
series story. Because in Hollywood terms, seem like sad, single old ladies if they didn’t – because according to Hollywood, one can only be caught up in the single, swinging life for so long until it wears off and seems tragically sad.
Which, brings me to the next topic – PRIDE. I would have gone if Charlie were here but since she wasn’t I had no desire to go. I got what I want – a marriage license and insurance benefits for my spouse. What more can I ask for than to be treated just like everyone else? See, I never wanted special treatment. I only wanted what the Buckhead couple have – equal rights. Once we got those what is the biiiiiig deal about PRIDE? I seriously think that the same sex marriage ruling burst the PRIDE balloon. However, I have friends who go every year – to celebrate pride, their new relationship, singleness or marriage.
That’s fine. To each his own. I do miss PRIDE when it was originally the last week in June right before the 4th of July. That way you could string in two celebrations into one (and take a four day weekend for partying).
My PRIDE consisted of making lasagnas for two of my friends – one post-op and the other pre-op and driving them to their houses and visiting for a while. The first friend who is on crutches was supposed to go down to the park with her friends but they all ended up bailing because of one thing or another and were ok with that. She said honestly she wished someone would just have an all day party at their house and cookout and have people dropping in throughout the day. Which, sounded good to me – I love house parties – especially, when we’re throwing them. The other couple hadn’t been to PRIDE in years and didn’t even know it was happening that weekend.
I had several people saying, “Let me know what you get in to” this past weekend but I just kind of blew it off. I can get into several things without their help or company. I get tired of always asking. I decided to go out on my own and watch the rest of the Falcons game. But, I was at an impasse on where to go. The one nearby I knew would be crowded, I went to one of the standby’s and turned right around when I saw the woman who was keeping bar was the one who gave shitty service the last time Charlie and I were there. It was between the one that had a huge long bar that I could probably squeeze in to -but a 9:00 curfew for children that was rarely enforced. Or, a new burger place I hadn’t been to yet and knew nothing about.
Normally, the restaurants and bars we frequent near the house are full of new parents, babies and toddlers. In fact, it should be named Sex and then the Babytown -season 35.
I’ve literally sat next to a toddler taking up prime bar space with their coloring book and sippy cup while I drank my Peroni waiting for a pizza. I mean, you get sick of it after a while. When part of what you’re paying for is ambiance then a screaming baby almost makes you want to get up, throw some money on the table and leave (and, we have done that). Times like that almost make me miss the ol’ Sex and the City days of babies banned from bars and smoking areas. I decided to try the new place and was pleasantly surprised they had a 21 and older upstairs bar. I ended up watching the Falcons beat the Broncos over a burger and beer. Yes, there was screaming going on but the adult kind that doesn’t rupture one’s eardrum. I think I’ve found a new niche to hang in Babytown – and I like it.