…or How I Got A Little Help From My Friends: Some Old, Some New, Some Real, Some Imaginary

I arrived ready to meet my friends inside. It took almost an hour to find them. Two thousand people jammed into a spacious warehouse can sort of get in the way. Add pulsing music and free alcohol and it becomes nearly impossible to find a friend. Easy to make new ones, though.

As I was waiting for my friends at the front entrance, Marty Davis grabbed my arm and said “that’s Chelsea Clinton.” Sure enough, the former and maybe future first daughter was busy smiling brightly with gay men in red dresses draped at either side. Rumours swirled that she had feverishly reworked her schedule to make the party. After trying to snap a few pictures, I bid Chelsea adieu and went looking for my friends again.

We did finally connect and proceed to find a line to get a drink. Always a problem at Red Dress, the drink lines were too long, but what are ya gonna do?

Luckily, the fabulous rocking of Storm Large and Her Balls filled the cavernous warehouse. One of my main reasons for attending, Storm did not disappoint. Although a confirmed Obama supporter, Storm passed her thanks to Chelsea with a “Chelsea Clinton was here at the party. That is pretty fuckin’ cool,” and then she dedicated her rock anthem to brutal feminism “Ladylike” to Chelsea’s mom and sent the crowd into choruses of “what the fuck is ladylike if ladies like to do what the fuck they like?” A good question, indeed.

My friends and I pinballed from line to line before settling on the beer and wine booth. At least it moved a little faster than the vodka-concoction lines. This brought my mix of beverages for the evening full circle from beer to vodka to tequila to beer again. I should have seen the trouble coming.

We headed out to the crowded outdoor area where a fire burned in a pit and someone was giving away some sort of new, award-winning soda water. As we wandered outside, we noticed the whole masses of people just inside the open garage doors were gaping heavenward.

And no wonder. A completely hot latino guy was beginning his acrobatic routine on the tissu, which is the french word for fabric, which is what this guy was hanging from about 70 feet off the ground. Pretty cool. I mean hot.

Still, we needed to be outside. So, we broke out into the cooling night air, where I think the odd cocktail collection in my tummy finally rebelled against the emptiness of the day spent preening instead of eating. I suddenly found myself unable to stand up very well, so I tried to casually lean against a wall and, ya know, be cool.

Hmmm. This was not working. Now ready to leave the party, I tried to rise to full walking position when a full-length, Disney-inspired, animated-creatures-in-the-fairlyand-forest began playing in my head.

Just as it was getting good, I heard a familiar voice calling out my name and a gentle tapping on my cheek. It was my friend. What was she doing here? Oh yeah…I was at the Red Dress Party, then I was in the fairy forest. Oh shit. I passed out.

The first thing I said to my friend was “I’m here. I’m back.” As if she would know that I had been in the fairyland forest.

It turns out that I had gone down in slow motion against the wall, but that she had used her 100 pound body to catch my 260 pound body and make sure I did not hit my head. As she said later: “that’s what friends are for.”

So, there I was, embarrassed and on the ground at the biggest gay party in Portland. The party organizers and their staff quickly came to my aid and inquired as to whether I wanted to go the “quiet place.” I thought maybe I was back in the fairyland forest but then it was explained that the Red Dress organizers had set up a place just for people like me. A quiet place to get away from the crowd and sort of recover. Heyyyy!

I decided, yes, that would be a good thing. Especially after an intoxicated woman fell - and spilled her drink - on me as I sat on the ground outside. My dress was ruined!

After explaining to the two security guys that I might have a little trouble standing, they slowly got me up and headed toward a door on the side of the building. I was totally fine (I think the amazingly eloquent pink bunny with an English accent in the fairyland forest had actually cured me, but I was not about to tell that to anyone there.) The two security guys had a good hold of me from in front and behind as we snaked through the crowd. Deciding that I needed to convey an image to the crowd parting like the Red Sea in front of us that was more bad-ass than drunk-ass, I scowled in such a way as to invite them to wonder how badly I must have beaten up the other guy.

So, we arrive in the quiet room, which resembled a waiting room at a doctor’s office minus the magazines. My three friends joined me and asked me how I was feeling about every ten seconds. It was great to get some water in my system and thanks to the pink bunny with the English accent, I was feeling damn near cured.

Just then, the hot aerial guy came into the room in his underwear, accompanied by two twinky boys. One of the hot little twink guys was very open and quite obviously well-lubricated with those substances that makes a person completely friendly to everyone. He proceeded to go around the room telling us all how beautiful we all were and then he sat next to the exhausted, underwear-only clad aerial acrobat. The acrobat suddenly reached his hands into his undies and cried out “oh thank god I can finally take this cock ring off.” Why he needed to wear that for the performance, I will never know.

Now…before we get to this next part, I need to provide a brief background. I am a large guy, so my mom and I went to Big Gal’s Consignment in Salem to get my dress that very same day. I also got her to help me completely shave my head - razor blade and all.

So, the super-friendly hot twink guy gets up again and comes over to me and puts his hands on my head and says “I just love your head.”

“Can I give you a scalp massage?”

“Sure.”

So, he does. And he is good. I ended up getting two scalp massages, a shoulder and neck rub and both hands massaged while my friends watched me “recover.”

By then, it was time for me take my cab back home to Lake Oswego. In a Red Dress.

The Red Dress Party is an annual event in Portland Oregon that raises funds for gay-related causes. The 2008 Red Dress Party was held on April 12. Davey Nipples, bass player for Storm Large and the Balls called it “full blown mardi gras in red” and stated “we would be honored to do something like this again for sure.” Stay tuned to this website for details on the funds raised.

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