Yesterday was the Pride Parade in Chicago, and the day before that was Pride Fest. pliSkiNAKE had stuff to do nearby, so I walked around the Fest. I found it pretty boring, but I’m hardly the key demographic. There was lots of food I didn’t want, loud music I didn’t particularly like, and awful, awful t-shirts for sale*. They had nothing to do with GLBT pride, they were just white shirts with terrible airbrushed neon animals on them. What. The ’90s say hello.
So I gave up on walking around and instead stood on the corner and yo-yoed. Some people watched, and over the next ten minutes these things happened:
- A black guy around my age asked if it was a Duncan, and I said no, it’s a YoYoJam. “YoYoJam! No way!” he exclaimed, saying they were great. I wasn’t sure if he was serious, or putting me on. He started telling me about how Duncans weren’t very good because they get knots a lot quicker. I told him I “didn’t think that was true.” He went on a rant about Yo-Yo Balls, and something about doing tricks with them. I told him they really weren’t made for tricks, and he walked away never to return. He seemed genuine.
- A girl walked up and took my picture, and when I looked up she ran away. It was a terrible picture too, I had just messed up a trick. I wanted to tell her to take another, but she was gone.
- An almost-skinhead guy walked up to me, inches from my face, and stared angrily at me. “What’s up?” I asked. He pointed devil horns at me with his left hand, nodded, and then walked away. It made exactly as much sense as you think it did. We had nothing in common that I could tell.
* There were some cool shirts in other booths, and I’m sure it was fun for most people. This post really isn’t about the Fest itself.