By Stephen Torres
Pink Saturday was not kind to me. I had to work “Mango” down at the river and it never really reached the usual crescendo, but kept truckin’ along all through the night. I woke up at about one the next afternoon with the parade having already passed by. I felt obligated to go, however, and met some friends down on the mall in Civic Center.
It was an already faulty set- up in that I was exhausted and sober amongst a sea of bronzed, vibrant, inebriated fairies. By the look on my friend Jesse’s face, I knew we were on the same page. So what are two tired queens to do when confronted with such glee and sunshine?