Its all about the story

Its always to me been all about telling a good story. Not matter what, make the life you're living good enough that when you tell the story later, and you will, its a good story.

My favourite good story moment of the last few years happened at gay pride in the early 2000s. I can't remember specificially what year - it seems they have all blended in to one. Before I start the story - apologies to those who appear in the story who may not like their roles or the descriptions there of. Its MY story afterall.

This particular year I attended with a different bunch of folks then I normally do. I therefore expected a varying degree of fun - and before everyone gets their panties in a knot - I was WRONG.

It started with brunch at an all you can eat breakfast buffet. No bad can come from a day fuelled with BACON. Natures most heavenliest of foods. If it were not for bacon I would be a vegetarian today. But I can't give it up - its like a drug! If they could make something that tastes and smells JUST like bacon and was calorie free - they could make it out of old tires, I wouldn't even care - I would LOVE that. Just yum. But already by brunch two of our attendees had already punked out.

One of the cancellers was my cancelling out friend - EVERYONE has at least one cancelling out friend - think about it. The person that says they will be there - can't wait - sounds great! Then the week before the event has a tickle in their throat (this is what we call the pre-complaining stage) and you say "hmmm I understand". And then the day before - ooooh - its questionable if they can attend - malaria, period pains, gastrointestinal distress - etc. Then the day of, you get a call, email or text and unfortunately they can't make it. But, since its the cancelling out friend and you did have a week to prepare and you usually don't count on them anyway, its all good.

The second canceller was one of those people who just is so busy with work that they can't seem to have time to fit in life - and we all expect it - and its all okay. Soooo.... we're down to 4.

Erica - who I worked with, her friend Scott, and my friend Doug. We finished brunch, pushed our way through THRONGS of people and found ourselves a nice place on the parade route. The parade fuelled by Erica's giant bottle of strawberry wine masquerading as pink gatorade was boring as it normally is.

So we escaped to the Alexandra parkette to see what music was happening and hit the beer tent. Who do we find there? Cancelling friend number 2 who was supposed to be working. Whatever. He was suitably uncomfortable which made me happy. I'm often not as happy with revenge as I am with subtle guilt and the ability to be superior - just for a minute.

We left and went to the 501 beer garden - continuing our sad debaucery withoutScott. Somewhere in the afternoon Erica and Doug began discussing their mutual nipple peircings - a conversation I couldn't participate in not having one of my own. Then it started to rain. (It rarely rains on Pride day to eliminate the inevitable singing of "its raining men". )

Erica took off her shirt and so did Doug and the two of them danced shirtless in the rain. I took pictures. Of course I did. I felt it was my duty to record the day. And what I told each of them was - When I tell this story - and I will - you were both NAKED. That's it - dancing naked in the rain.

Monday rolled around and I took in the photos to be developed at my local grocery store - where I always get them developed. I went back end of the week to pick up the naked rain dancing photos and opened them up in the store - I couldn't wait to see what they looked like! I opened the photos and there were the pictures - of a baby shower. Who's baby shower? How the fuck should I know? I rushed back to the photo counter - and panicking asked the little stupid photo boy what had happened to my photos. Long story short - after much hullaballo - turns out that 5 people had their photos mixed up - someone got my naked rain dance photos and I got someone else's babyshower photos.....

The whole thing is - the story of dancing naked in the rain wasn't nearly as good until the photos showing the REAL version ended up with some nice polite suburban family looking for baby pictures with Uncle Fred. That's what MADE the story fun. Good enough fun to be a good story. And its all about the good story - isn't it?