I ::heart:: the gays. I had the most amazing time last night at a Mardi Gras celebration at a gay club out here. Chelsia’s friend, porn-star manager extraordinaire Jason Sechrest, was hosting the event, and had brought along some of his talent to help get the party started. The event raised money for the Seattle faction of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, whose mission statement is to fund non-profit organizations that serve the queer and sex-positive community. “Sex-positive” is a term I hadn’t heard before moving to Seattle, but I love it — it’s all about teaching people that sex doesn’t need to have a negative connotation and that we don’t have to be afraid of people who practice sex differently than we do, whether it’s in their choice of partners, the frequency with which they have sex or how they have sex. “Sex-positive” organizations preach safe sex and acceptance of a variety of sexual identities and lifestyles. Obviously, this is the kind of thing I’m all about. The members of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence dressed full drag-queen style (but as nuns, ‘natch) and they hosted a Big Dick contest at the end of the night. No one could tell if the dicks were big or not, because none of the guys could actually stay hard up on stage, and I don’t blame them one bit.
Anyway, here’s what I have to say about this: The people I met last night absolutely could not have been friendlier or more welcoming. Everyone took the time to say hi. Many wonderful and sexy and gay men took the time to give me beads and tell me I was pretty. I now count Jason Sechrest among my best friends on earth — he was hilarious and intelligent and talented and kind and warm. The gay porn stars I met were fantastically sweet to me in a genuine way, not in a “I have to be nice to you because this is my job” kind of way. Usually when I go out to parties with Chelsia’s crew, I meet people and they’re like, “Oh, right, hi Chelsia’s Friend” and that’s the last time they so much as glance in my direction, because I wasn’t, ya know, on a network television show. That was not the case here. I felt included and relevant. This may or may not be because I brought along a date, an attractive heterosexual man, who was probably the only heterosexual man in the room (and definitely the most attractive man in the room, IMHO, hee hee). It was clear he was straight, and the guys went out of their way to make him feel welcome and safe at the party.
And the dance floor was the best I’ve been on in ages. I felt that dance-floor high that’s been so elusive since I abandoned the obnoxious meat-market clubbing scene. I can’t wait to go back to that club.
So someone, please, explain to me again why these are sinners who don’t deserve basic civil rights?
