Pride Month is officially here, which means Delmarva has entered its most dangerous season.
Not hurricane season.
Pride season.
The glitter has escaped containment. Every drag entertainer within a 50-mile radius is double-booked. Rehoboth parking has become a competitive sport. And somewhere right now, a gay man is ordering an outfit online that absolutely does not need to be purchased.
As your local drag queen and self-appointed Pride Month safety officer, I’ve put together a few survival tips.
First: hydrate.
Every year, I watch people spend six hours walking around a Pride festival fueled entirely by iced coffee, vodka sodas and pure determination. Water is your friend. Water loves you. Water wants you to survive until the after-party.
Wear sunscreen.
Not because it’s healthy.
Because nobody wants to explain why they look like a patriotic hot dog in every Pride photo for the rest of the year.
Support local events.
Pride doesn’t magically appear. It takes volunteers, organizers, performers, businesses, community groups and at least one person having a mild panic attack over folding tables.
Be nice to that person.
Stretch.
Trust me on this one.
Every year, somebody attends a Pride festival, a drag brunch, a parade and an after-party in the same weekend, then spends the next four business days recovering.
We are not as young as we think we are.
Some of us are not as young as we look on Instagram.
Support your entertainers.
Drag queens, drag kings, musicians, DJs, dancers and performers spend hours getting ready. If someone makes you laugh, cry, scream, dance or briefly forget your student loan debt, throw a few dollars their way.
Avoid Facebook comment sections.
The weather is beautiful.
The beach is right there.
Go outside.
Nobody has ever changed their life by arguing with a stranger named Dennis on the internet.
And finally, embrace the weird.
Wear the outfit. Take the picture. Buy the rainbow sunglasses. Dance badly. Talk to new people.
Say yes to the event.
Pride Month isn’t about fitting in.
It’s about realizing there are a whole lot of people who never fit in either.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have 17 events, nine outfits, three wigs and absolutely no idea what day it is.
Happy Pride, Delmarva.
Stay hydrated, support local, tip your drag entertainers and remember:
If you leave a Pride event without at least a little glitter on you, did you even go?
I’ll see you out and about.
