Terrence felt the sweat trickle down his back and pool at the top of his ass crack. It was hot, the humidity making the inside of his costume feel slimy, bits of the rubber chest covering and heavy pants chafing against his skin from the inescapable moisture.
Heads turned to stare at him as he stormed away from the vibrant crowds filling Church Street. Dusk was approaching and the street was lit up with strobes and spot lights. Rainbow flags fluttered everywhere; drag queens, sparkling with sequins and glitter, posed for selfies with tourists. Terrence realized his mistake, his miscalculation, too late to be corrected.
The shirt was a little snug. Dianne rooted through the boxes to find another one a size up, one that didn’t fit so snugly across her ample hips. She didn’t mind her hips, “child-birthing hips” Bruce had called them once when she was pregnant with Madeline, they were part of her and part of her life story, but she knew a tight t-shirt would drive her nuts and she’d be fussing and adjusting the hem all day if she didn’t find something looser.
Darren looked himself over in his bedroom mirror. Cargo shorts, white tank top under an open, short-sleeve cotton shirt with a palm tree pattern. Sneakers and short socks. Should he wear a hat? His Mom would suggest a hat, he knew, as she kissed him good-bye and told him to have a good day with his friends. A baseball game, he had told her, hoping there was actually a game on that day, not checking the schedules himself.
Having spent a lot of time in the gay community and attending at least a few Pride events almost every year, I wanted to do something to celebrate both Pride itself and the interesting people I’ve come across. Most of the people I write about in this series are outliers, people on the periphery of the parades, festivals, and events who don’t exactly fit in, but who most definitely add to the overall atmosphere.
I’ve swiped this 
I just bought a dress online. I had decided in Before Times that in 2020 I would not buy any new clothes unless I was replacing something that was no longer wearable. For instance, I bought new socks when all of my regular ones seemed to lose their elastic at the same time and kept scrunching down into my sneakers and bunching up under the arches of my feet. So the dress was totally unnecessary and a broken promise to myself, but it was super cute, very me, and something that I’d wear a lot.
