The Fan

Pride

The fan’s not an affectation, it’s utilitarian.   

I’m gonna run into Fran and Donnie, probably Lars too, and they are going to rain hilarious hell down on me for this fan.

The glasses?

Not my normal look either, but what the hell? It is sunny, it’s a wonderful day for a Pride Parade.

Vancouver is beautiful any day, but the sun seems appropriate. People brought their own rainbows.

I’m nervous.

I don’t really know why.

I was nervous at my first parade, but it made sense.

I was young, there was a rumor some skinheads were going to drive up from Seattle, I was chubby, I just didn’t like myself.

That me would hate these blue shorts. Hate ‘em.

I don’t hate anything today.

But I’m nervous.

I might be breaking a rule.

A request, actually.

My sister called.

“You’re going to Pride, right?”

I wasn’t sure. 

“Ummm, well, Terry will be there. Terry is part of a whole crew of gay bike messengers.”

“Terry never told me that-”

“Terry never told anyone. Today’s the big day. Go light on the embarrassing uncle routine, okay? Maybe you shouldn’t go at all. If Terry sees you it might get too emotional.Can you skip this year? Is that a bitchy thing to ask?”

It wasn’t a bitchy thing to ask.

But I didn’t comply.

I’m slightly incognito at the Pride Parade.

And I’m wearing dark glasses, because it probably will get too emotional.

***

Author’s Note: Nishant Jain gave me permission to base today’s short fiction on one of his Sneaky Art drawings. Artists and writers both share a certain sense of respectful voyeurism. I’m guessing the person in the drawing would appreciate the story. I hope so. This drawing story combo is brought to you free by my friends at Detroit History Tours. Though the drawing and story are set in Vancouver, I’m absolutely positive in this case Detroit History Tours is happy to be part of it.